


She Rises

by melanie1982



Category: Friends (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fiction, Supernatural - Freeform, non-canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-26
Updated: 2019-02-01
Packaged: 2019-03-11 13:41:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 24,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13525464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melanie1982/pseuds/melanie1982
Summary: TRIGGER WARNINGS: This story includes various types of violence and death, including domestic violence. If that bothers you, skip this one. Thanks :)Despite her privilege and popularity, Rachel had always felt, deep down, that she was rather ordinary.She had walked away from her one-track life, eventually transforming into a strong, confident, successful woman - but all along that journey, Ross had been only too eager to encourage her self-doubt.Rachel had given up her dream in order to be with the one man who had never been able to let her go (even while dating/marrying others).A year into their happily-ever-after, her new life went up in flames, but Rachel was about to learn that she was anything *but* ordinary.From the ashes, She Rises.unfinished until I remove this 'unfinished' note





	1. Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beginning

"I'll be there for yoooou..."

Rachel sighed as that song played on the radio for what seemed the zillionth time in her life. Funny how little things like that repeated in a person's journey, almost like they were scripted. Those lyrics had once been a mantra to her, or maybe a theme song: Rachel and the girls, sharing wacky adventures together, leaning on one another in times of trouble. No matter what changes had come, they'd had each other as constants.

It wasn't just the girls, though. There was Chandler, the former commitment-phobe who was now deliriously happily married to Monica, but still as witty and goofy as ever. There was Joey, the part-time actor, full-time sweetheart, still looking for his happy ending. Rachel's path to self-sufficiency had been tough, but, by God, it had been glorious. The five of them had evolved into almost unrecognizable new versions of themselves, shifting in how they viewed relationships, parenthood, career, even themselves. 

..And then there was Ross. Ross hadn't grown as much as the others; even becoming a father (twice!) hadn't brought him to the same level of introspection and empathy the others had experienced.

Rachel finished drying the dishes as she emerged from her reverie. Outside, the clouds which had been looming and glowering at her all day finally let loose. Who was there for Rachel when the rains started to fall? Where was Ross, the one who'd said he couldn't function without her, the one who'd been staying out longer on the weekends and working late at least three days a week, the one who bragged about the joys of parenthood to anyone who'd listen but who barely acknowledged Emma when she was right in front of him? What had happened? Rachel had given up everything for Ross; what was HE willing to give up? For pity's sake, he hadn't even asked her to marry him (again) - though, to be honest, Rachel wasn't sure that was what she truly wanted.

The song ended. The chores were done; it was time to go to bed, curling up with her body pillow and waiting for sleep to claim her. Maybe the morning would bring answers, or at least her man's return.

Little did Rachel know as she dressed for bed that there would be no going back from the events about to unfold. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daddy's home....

Was it late, or early? Rachel wasn't sure; her phone had vanished into the dim landscape of the bed as she'd tossed and turned, and the moon and stars beyond the curtains were still obscured by clouds and rain. The front door opened with a loud jangling of keys and a stifled curse from Ross. She tracked the sound of his stumbling movements through the foyer and into the living room, the soft thud of each shoe being kicked off, the rumpled landing of Ross' overcoat on the floor, and the clank of the keys coming to rest on the side-table.

Soon his halting ascent was audible, and Rachel felt her body tense in anticipation. She tried to keep her breathing slow and even, feigning sleep, blanking her mind. Having navigated the stairway, Ross' labored breathing, the hallmark of the inebriated, sounded from the other side of the bedroom door. Rachel willed her racing heart to calm, her muscles to go limp; why was she so nervous? This scene had played out several times in recent months, and while Ross had a sharp tongue, he had never been violent. The worst she could expect would be a fumbled attempt at intimacy, perhaps a few harsh words, and then, blessed respite. Despite her best efforts, Rachel was dreading his approach. What made this time so different?

The hallway light came on, and Rachel tried not to squint as the door opened inward, spilling illumination into the room. A damp hand pressed down upon her shoulder, resting there for a moment before jostling her 'awake.'

"Ross?"

"Heyyy," came the elongated greeting, the tone seemingly merry. His breath reeked of liquor, but there was something else, a different scent vying for Rachel's attention. It repulsed her, though she couldn't articulate why.

"Sweetie, let's not wake Emma, okay? Just, come to bed."

The hallway light flickered in time with the crack of thunder, and her senses went on hyper-alert as she realized what the smell was telling her: Ross had been with another woman. She could not see his expression shift, the micro-changes occurring there, but she felt the tension. Ross had long been skirting the bounds of propriety with several women at work, not all of them faculty members, but this burden of certainty, of *knowing* he had betrayed her, was almost enough to break her. Still, Rachel knew this was not the time to act - it was the time to think, to decide, to plan her next move. No good would come from a confrontation with this drunken man.

"In a lil' while. But.. we need to talk."

I am not ready for this, she thought to herself - but it seemed the conversation was going to take place, ready or not.

Rachel waited for Ross to step aside before easing herself out of bed. She felt warm, foregoing her robe, though she knew the house was chilly. Outside, the storm had intensified, and in the corner of her eye, Rachel saw a bolt of lightning streak across the night before vanishing in a blink.

As they entered the kitchen, Ross leaned against the counter, watching his woman prepare the kettle on the range. She had a feeling they'd *both* be needing coffee - Ross to sober up, and herself to fortify her nerves.

"Rach, Rach, Rach..," Ross began. Oh, how she hated the shortened form of her name, such a throwback to her childhood - and when Ross used it three times in succession, it always meant she wouldn't like whatever followed. She offered what she hoped was a gently submissive smile, harking back to the advice in the helpful books Ross had gifted her in an attempt to domesticate her. Rachel tried to recall the last time she had felt truly empowered and free. Was it when she'd given birth to Emma? Or was it the moment she'd boarded the plane for Paris? When had she begun to chip away at her own self, allowing her essence to be broken down and made into something new?

The kettle whistled, piercing the silence between them. Rachel busied herself with fetching Ross his "Number One Dad" mug - a gift from Chandler whose irony was lost on Ross - and her own "Number One Wifey" mug, a painful reminder of her inferior and still-unwed status. The instant coffee granules dissolved into the water, the pleasant aroma mingling with the lingering smell of sex. Rachel frowned, remembering how sensitive she'd become to smells during her pregnancy, hoping this didn't mean she was expecting again - and then feeling immediate guilt for harboring such a thought.

Rachel carefully added the milk and sugar before handing Ross his mug and leaning against the counter once more. Her desire to sit was over-ruled by her nervous energy and the fear of being chided for 'laziness.'

Ross, misinterpreting the look on Rachel's face, raised his voice.

"What?"

Shaken from her thoughts, Rachel blinked rapidly, trying to clear her mind. "I was listening. Waiting on you to start."

"No, Rach. You gave me a look. What - what - why did you do that?"

"I was just lost in thought. I'm worried about you; you seem upset." 

Shit. If there was anything sure to get Ross emotional, it was accusing him of being emotional. In this instance, there was a moment of respite as Ross scaled back his feelings.

"Rach.. Do you ever think that there's something.. missing? I mean, in us? In life?"

Dear God how she hated drunk Ross. Drunk people in general, actually. The rambling, the philosophizing, and the total lack of recall in the morning.. Rachel sipped her coffee, praying that the caffeine would inspire her to answer correctly. What should she say was missing? Love? Sanity? Self-expression? 

"Umm.. Well, I mean, could you be more specific?"

Ross sighed dramatically. "Like, you and me. This house. Our life together. Do you ever feel like there's more out there?"

Where was this going? Was Ross going to suggest moving back to the city? Was he having a mid-life crisis?

"Ross, sweetie, what's on your mind?" The lights flickered, setting Rachel more on edge. Ross lurched forward to be closer to her, and Rachel flinched. Seeing her response to him, a change came over Ross' face, like a wall of ice closing him off from her. She shivered.

"Are you - are you afraid of me?"

Right now? Yes. She was. In general? Increasingly so. Rachel pursed her lips, saying nothing - just as the lights went out with a loud buzz. Rachel jumped, dropping her mug onto the stone floor, the coffee hissing as it spilled. The shatter of ceramic made Rachel grit her teeth.

"Ross.. It's late, and there's a storm. Can we just please go to bed and talk about this later?"

Scoffing, Ross began to rant in the darkness. "Oh. I mean, I'm sorry if it's so much trouble for you to talk to the father of your child about - " He caught himself, softening a little. "You know what, forget it." 

The calm was short-lived.

"Clean that up, Rachel."

"Ross, I can't - I'm barefoot, and the power's - "

Another smash of ceramic, this one deliberate. Upstairs, Emma began to whimper, and in her mind, Rachel desperately begged her child to be quiet.

"Muhh..muhma.. Muhm, muhmmm.." The little voice trailed through the darkness, down the stairs and into the kitchen.

Rachel felt Ross' anger stretching to full height inside of him, towering over her like a shadow. She tasted alcohol vapors and perfume, and then there was pain, a stinging, throbbing pain in her face as Ross landed a clumsy blow in the dark.

To his right, one of the burners on the stove sparked to life, allowing Rachel enough visibility to dodge his next swing. The other three burners whooshed to full flame as the tang of blood caressed Rachel's palette, flowing from a split on the inside of her cheek. The lights turned back on once more.

"Mommy's busy," Ross called out in a sing-song voice for Emma's benefit. 

"Ross - the stove," she gasped out, her voice sounding tight and wrong, a spring poised to uncoil. He glanced over briefly, then turned his focus back to her. She edged sideways to the stove, wanting to turn off the burners, but Ross' hands gripped her wrists.

"I'm not done talking," he slurred. A popping sound came from overhead, followed by a shower of glass as the ceiling light exploded. Rachel braced one foot behind the other, cutting herself and not caring as she prepared to knee Ross in the groin. Emma began to wail - 

"Ah ah ah, Rach," Ross said, sounding almost sorry. She felt the wind being knocked out of her as Ross gripped her by the waist and spun her around, the counter pressing into her abdomen. Ross slid her bodily along the edge of the surface, getting closer to the blue glow of the flames.

"Isn't this hot?", he taunted.

I'm going to burn, she thought. I'm going to burn to nothing, and Emma will be all alone with HIM.

The flames barely registered as Ross leaned her over, Rachel fighting to push back against him. She bought a few inches of space, her gut roiling as she heard Ross working his belt buckle open. 

She needed to survive. Rachel would endure anything to keep Emma safe; if that meant being burned from the front and violated from the back, so be it. 

Then the smell of the other woman hit Rachel's nose more strongly than before, and she balked. "Ross, we need.. Just.. Use protection - "

He pushed her head forward, flames almost licking at her face. "I do use it .. but not with you. Not with my Rach."

She waited, choking on her tears. Just get through this, and get to Emma - 

But the thought of Emma's distress, coupled with the prospect of bearing another child for this man, made Rachel's vision wash white with rage. Outside, a bolt of lightning struck the tree beside the driveway, the tree bursting into flame. The car alarm began sounding, and upstairs in her crib, Emma screamed.

The sound of shattering glass ripped through the house as every light fixture burst into fragments. Ross was cursing and backing away, and Rachel knew nothing of the pain of broken glass or the heat of the flames. She knew only rage.

As she turned to face him, Ross began to shake. In the dim light, his body almost seemed to be giving off smoke. 

Rachel began to sweat as with a fever, watching in mute fascination as Ross' shirt-cuff began to curl and crumble into ash.

"What - what - ?"

The flames licked their way up his arm, Ross' vain attempts to pat them out now seeming almost.. amusing.

He tore at the buttons in his stupor, freeing himself from the shirt and stomping at it on the floor - but the fire caught again, this time on his other arm. Skin peeled away and became nothing, and the smell of sex was replaced by something altogether stronger, the acrid aroma of burning flesh.

Ross howled in pain and confusion, leaping around the kitchen in desperation. The kitchen sink offered no aid, the water doing nothing to quench the flames. Ross' clothes were gone, piles of black nothingness all over the floor as he ran for the front door.

Rachel watched, frozen to the spot, Ross' flaming form visible through the window. There were no thoughts now, other than one word, repeated over and over without effort:

BURN. BURN. BURN BURN BURNBURNBURNBURN

The rain didn't help him. Ross contorted and writhed, looking like nothing so much as a puppet set ablaze, dancing wildly, his screams lost to the wind.

With a final burst of red, shooting several feet up into the air, the flames died. Rachel felt her limbs coming back to life.

She turned off the burners with trembling hands, noticing she had no marks, not so much as a blister. Her skin was whole, supple and alive, though it was hot to the touch.

Stepping outside, Rachel found nothing - no teeth or bones, no blood or gore. There was nothing but a patch of earth where the grass had been burned away. The rain felt cool on her hot skin, and she stepped back into the house, closing the door.

As soon as she secured the bolt, the rain outside stopped. The night was quiet, except for Emma's cries.

"Emma.."

Rachel took the stairs two at a time, praying she was dreaming, that it had all been a nightmare..

She had no idea what had just happened, or how it would change several lives forever.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after

Rachel awoke by degrees. Early morning light crept silently into the room, though all the world seemed painted in shades of gray. She found she'd shifted from her normal side of the bed and settled squarely in the middle, arms out wide like wings. Rachel turned her head, knowing Ross would not be there, but her mind was stalling, trying to keep the truth at bay for a few moments more.

"Such strange dreams," she sighed, blinking as she waited for colors to materialize. In her sleep, Rachel had seen hues more vibrant than anything on earth, and she had flown after them, trying to touch them. Her dream self had traveled to another realm entirely, one filled with beauty and light and, above all, freedom. She had skirted a glowing orb as bright as the sun, yet it had not burned her. Rachel had almost allowed herself to touch it, to be absorbed by that welcoming light, but the thought of Emma had made her pause. No sooner had Rachel made her decision than she began a swift descent, slamming back into her waiting body, to reality in all its shades of pain.

After allowing herself a moment to stretch each muscle in her lithe body, Rachel rolled from the bed and made her way down the hall. Emma was just beginning to stir, and Rachel watched as her dear daughter's face registered awareness of her mother's presence. Emma was.. not dull gray; more of a silvery-white - but she was not colorful. 

Rachel found the baby carrier Ross had claimed would 'spoil' the baby, buckling it into place over her clothing. "Let's play a game, Emma. Let's play.." Rachel thought for a moment before finishing. "Let's play 'Find Daddy.'"

Emma was facing inward towards her mother's warm body, safe from the dazzling brightness of the sun - and from any potentially-unwelcome discoveries awaiting Rachel. The notion of leaving Emma behind was unthinkable, given the size of the area Rachel needed to search and the threat of Ross' return.. No. Emma was safer with her mother, come what may.

After rooting around for a moment, Rachel shifted her shirt out of the way, and Emma latched on to feed. The baby nursed contentedly as Rachel stepped into her all-weather boots, now a muted version of their formerly bright blue selves. The outside world was water-logged, colorless, and oddly serene. Scorch marks remained in the spot where Ross had stood, but there was no body, not even a body *part*. Had she been mistaken? Was Ross somewhere else at this very moment, injured but alive? 

The car was parked in the drive, treadmarks still apparent, but there was no trail of footprints leading from the burn site. It looked to all the world as though someone had walked from the car to the house, then back out again, simply to vanish into the air.

Rachel squinted as she turned in a circle, surveying the field, scanning the woods beyond.. Not a soul in sight. Could Ross have been devoured by scavengers? Nothing added up.

By the time Rachel had walked the perimeter, Emma was dozing. Her warmth and the proximity of her calm heartbeat soothed Rachel. Before going back into the house, she looked at the tree. Placing her hand upon the splintered trunk, she felt power rush through her body, and Emma began to fuss. Rachel watched as her baby's eyes opened wide in shock, and in that moment, Rachel knew. It didn't make any sense; it was beyond impossible - but she knew: Ross was gone. No; not gone. Ross was DEAD. She had watched him die, burning in agony until there was nothing left. Two questions formed inside of her mind:

What was she going to do now?

Was she responsible for his death?


	4. Clean-Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clean-up

Rachel had cleaned up. The broken glass, the spilled coffee, the whole house - all put to rights. Now and then, she'd glance out the window, half-expecting to see a police car coming for her, or at least an inquisitive colleague of Ross'. Nobody came.

She packed a bag for herself and a bag for Emma, wondering what was too much and what was not enough. Should she go to her mother's? Phoebe and Mike had their hands full with the new baby, and Rachel knew they had no room to spare. Out of every option Rachel ran through her mind, one stood out in bold caps time and time again:

JOEY

He'd begun calling himself 'Joseph' in an effort to be taken more seriously in his career, but to Rachel, he would always be 'Joey.' 

What if he had moved? Or was living with someone? What if what if what if?

Worst of all the possibilities - what if he doesn't want to see me?, she thought.

Still, her heart whispered: 'Go to Joey.'

Shaking, Rachel buckled Emma into her car-seat and began to drive. She left it all behind: their house, their belongings, their *life*, not knowing if or when she'd ever be back.

All she knew now was that the house held no answers, and she couldn't face this situation alone.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The knock at the door derailed Joey's train of thought. As he peered through the peephole, he swallowed hard, realizing he must be having 'that' dream again. "Alright. I'll play along," he said to himself, opening the door.

Rachel looked.. sad? Apprehensive? Joey felt too many emotions coming from her at once, and as the nano-seconds flew by, he sensed her fighting the urge to walk away. "Speak, you moron," he chided himself, then said aloud,

"Rachel. It's great to see you."

Not the best opener, but far from the worst. He had spoken softly, belying his racing heart and trembling soul. His friend had appeared on his doorstep, baby and bags in tow, and he needed to get her inside. Whatever she'd been through, Joey was determined to try to help.

"Joey.." Rachel felt faint, but, rather than falling down, it felt as though she could drift up, somewhere away from her troubles. Emma was her anchor, the one thing truly keeping her in this world.

"Rachel.. Come inside." Joey had spoken again, but Rachel was afraid - afraid of judgement, of the unknown, of.. herself. Should she risk implicating Joey in whatever the fuck had just happened?

Joey reached out a hand, and Rachel felt that tingling zap again, like when she'd touched the tree. This time, it felt powerful rather than frightening. She closed her fingers around his.

"C'mon. Whatever it is, it's gonna be okay. You're safe here."

The word 'safe' lit up inside her mind like an almost-color, bordering on pink. Safety; yes. She needed safety. She needed to be away from the danger she'd been living under. Joey was safe. Joey was home.

Mother and baby yielded to Joey's invitation, and with the understated turning of a lock behind them, their host shut out the world for the night.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joey tries to ease the truth out of Rachel

Rachel seemed lost. Joey settled her into his chair, still warm from the heat of his body, and found her a clean blanket. A bit-part as a nurse on a now-defunct show had given him some idea of how to treat a shock victim, and Rachel had all the classic symptoms.

"Have you eaten anything today?," he asked, still keeping his voice soft.

"I.. I can't remember."

Joey squeezed her shoulder gently; she didn't seem to register the touch, and that worried him. "I'll fix you somethin.'"

As Joey prepared Rachel a plate of leftover chicken cacciatore, he kept glancing over at the back of her head. She was staring at the tv, not moving, while Emma was playing contentedly at her feet. What had the poor woman been through to end up in this frightening state?

Joey held the plate out for her until she took it with both hands, and he was satisfied that she had a good grip on it. Rachel ate, seeming to surface somewhat from her daze as the hunger-fog lifted. Joey replenished her dish without being asked, and when Rachel had finished her second helping, the color returned to her face. Joey felt slightly reassured, but he knew he would have to try to coax information from her in order to figure out how to help.

"You know that you and Emma are welcome here any time. I love seeing both of you." Somewhere in Joey's words, the name 'Ross' was glaring by its omission. Rachel made a mental note of this. "I'm just.. I'm worried about you. You seem like you've got a lot on your mind."

Joey paused here, giving Rachel a chance to jump in, to say something - anything. In her mind, she saw it all again: the burners in full flame, the shattered pieces of coffee mug on the floor, the sight of Ross being roasted to nothing. Her past was in full color, though the present was still void of color. How could she begin to explain? 

But this was JOEY - sweet, simple Joey. This was the friend who had believed Rachel's story of her boss offering to buy her baby. This was the man who had loved her and still stepped aside to let her make up her own mind, even if it meant losing her to Paris, or worse, to Ross. Rachel forced herself to look at him, to gaze into that guileless face, wishing so badly that it wasn't gray.

"Joey.. I'm scared. I don't know what happened, exactly.." - it was partially true - "..but Ross is gone. He just.. disappeared. One minute he was there, and the next.."

The olfactory memories were worse than the visual ones: the smell of betrayal, of booze, and then of burning flesh -

Joey tried not to show any selfish emotion of relief or satisfaction regarding Ross' alleged vanishing act. Rachel saved him by going on -

"I didn't know where else to go to feel safe. I just kept thinking of you, of being here.. I hope that was the right thing to do."

Joey nodded, taking her hand between both of his. Between his palms, Rachel's hand fluttered like a frightened bird. "It was. Of course it was. We'll figure it all out, Rachel."

She wanted desperately to believe him. He didn't know the half of it; he didn't even know as much as she did, which wasn't a lot. "Promise?"

"I promise to stand by you while you figure out what to do next. I'll support you. Whatever you need."

Rachel pulled her phone from her pocket, placing it on the table seconds before it began to ring. She stared at it, as if seeing it for the first time.

"You need me to get that?," Joey offered. Rachel shook her head, slowly putting the phone to her ear.

"Hello?"

It was Ross' employer. Rachel could feel her world crashing down around her. Apparently the university had tried to reach Ross' cellphone, but his voicemail was full, and there was never any answer. The house phone was out of service, and Rachel realized Ross must have forgotten to pay the bill - again. 

"I.. I don't know where he is. It's.. It's only been two days," Rachel said, weakly. "I can't file a report until.."

The caller continued to pepper Rachel with questions, and Joey watched her face contort with anxiety and distress. She listened, unable to get in a complete response, until Rachel had had enough. "I - I have to go. Goodbye."

She hung up, flinging the phone towards the table, then watching as it slid right off onto the floor. 

"Joey.. I don't want to - I mean, I just can't. I can't take phone calls right now."

Joey retrieved the fallen phone, switching it off. "Okay, Rachel. Then don't."

Missing? Ross hadn't been to work? Joey felt a little ball of dread growing in his stomach. That was so out of character for Ross; whatever had happened, it was deeper and darker than Joey had first thought.

He felt so helpless, so unsure of what to do or say.

"Would you.. Would you please watch Emma while I take a quick shower?"

"Uh, sure. No sweat."

Rachel forced herself to unfold from the blanket cocoon, hoping a shower would clear this brain-fog, or calm her nerves, or at least make her feel clean.

Joey knew he would have to push Rachel for more information, but it would have to wait.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 6

Joey studied Emma's face as she played. It had been.. God, how many months since he'd seen her in person? Rachel posted the occasional photo on her Facebook, which she maintained under an alias, but there hadn't been any recent updates. She looked so much like her mother, and Joey was glad she didn't resemble Ross, for more reasons than he would ever admit.

He felt protective of the girl, and not simply as an extension of her mom. He'd always felt a link to her, more than just that 'babies are cute,' warm fuzzy kind of thing; this went deeper. Joey assumed it was because of the love he felt for Rachel, and the prenatal living together situation. But was there something else at work? 

Joey kept one ear open for Rachel. The sound of rushing water carried on uninterrupted, but he was on alert for anything amiss: a sob, a moan, the sound of a fall. He had a mental timer running; if she wasn't out in the next few minutes, he was going to risk a knock on the door.

"What have you two been through, huh, kid?," he murmured to Emma, who rewarded him with an uncomprehending, toothy grin. She had a lot of teeth for someone so young, Joey mused, his heart melting a little. 

Joey's fears were somewhat eased when Rachel emerged from the shower before his time limit had expired. Fresh from the shower, Rachel's face had a glow to it, but there was still the unmistakable pain and exhaustion there. 

Beyond the window's drawn curtains, the sky was changing into its evening attire, showing off in glorious shades of orange, pink and gold before slipping into inky night. Around the room, various pops of color brought the space to life, ideas garnered from Rachel's influence on Joey. Rachel saw none of this. There was only Joey, playing sweetly with Emma as she toweled the last of the water from her hair. Both of them looked up upon her arrival, both of them smiling at her.

"Feel a little better?," Joey asked. Rachel nodded, giving an mmm of assent.

She settled back into her chair, Emma lifting her arms upward in her desire to be picked up. As Rachel positioned Emma for a feeding, Joey blushed, feeling he was intruding on an intimate act.

"Do you, uh, need anything else, Rachel? More food, or something to drink?"

"Oh..thanks, Joey, a drink would be great. Just.. whatever you've got."

Joey poured her a glass of juice, handing it to her before sitting on the couch. My God, even in her obvious distress, this woman was beautiful. Part of him had hoped that time and distance would dull these feelings, but from the moment Rachel had arrived at his door, Joey's heart had gone so willingly back into its prison cell. 

They sat in silence, watching mindless television as the outside light faded away. Joey had nothing on the agenda for tomorrow other than a casting call at midday, but he still felt he should get some sleep. That meant addressing sleeping arrangements. 

"It's getting pretty late.. Where would you and Emma be most comfortable?"

Rachel knew, logically, that it would be cruel and insensitive and horribly selfish to ask to sleep next to Joey 'as friends.' She knew that, despite her fear and loneliness, it would be wrong to expect so much of him. Rachel decided the chair was so comfortable, she would just stay there.

"Is it okay if I sleep right here? Will we be in the way?"

"It's fine. Let me see what I can arrange; I'll be right back."

Joey found the old pack-and-play he'd been gifted by his heavy-hinting aunt Teresa during her last "When am I going to be a great-auntie?" rant. He smiled as he struggled with it.

Emma was already asleep, tired and milk-drunk, so settling her in was easy. Just add a blanket, et voila! Instant nursery.

Joey went through his usual bedtime routine, and by the time he checked in to ask his guest if she needed anything else before he turned in for the night, she was asleep, fully reclined in his favorite chair.

Even in sleep, Joey noticed, she didn't look fully relaxed. 

Further questions would have to wait until the morning. Joey went to bed, thankful for their presence, and praying for the wisdom to guide them through whatever was wrong.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It only takes a spark

Rachel awoke to the smell of breakfast cooking. She'd been having strange dreams again. Along with the flying dream, which had become a recurring one, Rachel had dreamt that she and Emma were at home, going from room to room searching for Ross. The smell of bacon told her she wasn't at home; Ross *never* cooked (and thank God for that). As she opened her eyes, Rachel saw the pack-and-play at her side, and she remembered.

But where was Emma? 

"Joey?" Her voice was going into panic pitch as she flung herself from her chair, whirling around to find Joey at the stove, Emma safely snuggled into his back as he worked.

"Oh, my God.. I .. Wow. What a way to wake up."

Joey turned off the burner. "I'm sorry, it's just that she woke up earlier than you did, and we wanted to let you sleep in. Didn't we, Emma?"

Emma grinned, oblivious.

Joey added, in a stage whisper, "Actually, it was her idea. But I'll apologize on her behalf."

Rachel smiled, relieved. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to freak out."

Joey smiled back. "Mama bear hungry?"

Rachel realized that, yes, she was hungry, accepting a plate with a thank you before seating herself at the counter.

"Did you have any problems figuring out the baby carrier?"

Joey blushed a little. "I practiced with Emma's teddy bear a few times, just to make sure nobody was going to get hurt."

Rachel bit into the bacon - the perfect level of crispiness, and followed it with a bite of fluffy scrambled eggs. "God, these are amazing. And that's so sweet, you wearing Emma, keeping her entertained. And thank you for practicing with the bear first, Joey."

Joey was scoring major friend points. Rachel thought, with a slight wistfulness, that Joey had the makings of a great father.

"So, I know it's obviously uncomfortable for you, but, at some point I'm gonna need a little more info on what's going on."

Rachel swallowed her food with difficulty. "I know that. I mean, I - I know. And thank- thank you, Joe, for being so patient with me. I think.. I think I'm better today than I was yesterday."

Joey finished cooking, setting his plate on the counter beside Rachel's. He wanted to sit next to her, and not just so Emma could keep her mother in her line of sight.

They ate in contented silence for several minutes, until Joey felt he would burst. "Rachel, I don't expect to hear every gory detail, but I do need to know something about what happened. I want to help."

She was glad to have the distraction of food, and the fact that Joey was beside her meant she could avoid his gaze. With difficulty, she began. "It was a couple of nights ago. Ross got home late - and drunk - and he.. He wanted to talk. So we went downstairs to the kitchen."

Rachel focused on the coffee Joey had prepared for her. He never forgot how she liked it, and that stuck with her.

"About what?," Joey prompted.

She shook her head to clear it. "About.. us. I'm not really sure where he was going with it; I mean, he was rambling, going from hot to cold, angry to sad, and then the power went out.. A mug got broken.. And then.."

Joey paused, his fork suspended in mid-air en route to his mouth. "And then?"

"And then... Joey, you won't believe me, and I'm afraid that if you DO believe me, you'll think I did something.."

Joey rubbed Rachel's back with his free hand. "Just spit it out. Nothing you can say is going to make me feel any differently about you. We've been through so much together, what with you living here while you were pregnant with Emma, and us trying to date, and all the times you saved me from my own stupidity.."

Rachel cleared her throat. "Ross was yelling at me one minute, and then.. Then he was.. burning."

Joey waited. 

Burning?

"I swear, Joey, I never did anything to him. He just - it started on his shirt sleeve, and it went up and up and then before I knew it, he was just one big..."

He had to look at her now. There was pain in her voice, the burden of guilt and the fear of uncertainty. It wasn't a joke, nor was it a lie; this was real. 

"What did you do?"

Rachel swallowed hard. "I couldn't move. I felt like I was stuck to the floor, and he just.. burned and burned. Ross ran outside, and the rain didn't stop the fire. He just.. disappeared."

Joey noticed something now, a faint anomaly on the right side of Rachel's face near her hairline. Swelling. His voice dropped to a growl.

"Did Ross put hands on you? Did he hurt you, Rachel?"

In her grief and confusion, Rachel had almost forgotten that part of the incident. "Yeah. He.." Her hand went to the faded bump. "He did. That was before.."

Joey's gut clenched. He had an idea of where this was going, and a part of him wanted, so desperately, to be wrong.

The other part of him - the part he'd fought to suppress for so long and for so many reasons - desperately wanted to be right.

"Rachel.. I believe you." His words were still low, but the anger was gone, replaced with an almost hypnotic cadence. "I need you to tell me, in as much detail as you can remember - "

"Joey, I can't; I mean I just - "

"Trust me. I'm your friend. Everything is gonna be okay. But I need you to tell me everything. Please."

She told him - how there were no visible remains outside, how the fire hadn't damaged anything in the house, how the burners had spurted to life on their own.. Rachel talked him through the search for Ross, the strange dreams, the journey to his apartment, and Joey took her through it over and over until she was exhausted and he was satisfied that she had told him all.

"Joey, there's one thing I haven't brought up. I .. I was hoping it would've fixed itself by now, but it hasn't."

He knew. He knew, and yet he resisted. "What is it, Rachel?"

"Ever since the fire.. everything's been in black and white."

With that, she fainted, with Joey catching her before she hit the floor.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coming to

Rachel had been dreaming again, dreaming of falling, always swooping away from harm as she neared the ground. After the first few attempts, she had mastered it, and although the heights were dizzying, Rachel was no longer afraid.

But the heat - the heat made her stir. She was going to burn; Rachel could tell, it was coming, building up -

"Rachel."

Joey's voice broke the mad trance, and she opened her eyes to find she was on her friend's couch. 

"It's okay. I promise. You're alright, and so is Emma."

The panic in her died down, and she relaxed her body. Joey put something cool on her forehead, and Rachel swore she almost heard the hiss of steam.

"What happened?"

"You fainted." 

Ah, yes, now she remembered: the conversation slash confession over breakfast. Why was Joey still helping her? 

"It wasn't your fault. None of it." He paused, bringing a glass of cold water - the coldest she'd ever tasted in her life - to her lips. "Do you hear me? It wasn't your fault."

"Sweetie, you weren't there. You don't know what happened; hell, I'm not even sure what happened.."

He saw it there, in her face. The pain. He hoped his words would take it away again, but Joey wanted to ease into the topic, so she wouldn't freak out and dismiss him altogether.

"I do know what happened. My family.. has similar stories. Yours may have them, too, but each family has to decide for themselves.."

"Decide what? Joey, you're not making any sense."

He sighed. "Rachel, were you.. angry at Ross? Did anything he said or did set you off that night?"

She thought back. "He was drunk. And late. And he smelled like another woman. Like.. perfume, and sex. But I was more.. sad than angry. Until.."

Joey leaned in, waiting.

"Until I heard Emma start to fuss and cry. He wouldn't let me go to her. I was trying to get through it, to deal with what he was trying to do to me - "

"You mean when he hit you?"

She shook her head. "No. When he tried to.."

Joey's eyes darkened, but even as the color changed, they.. well, they glowed.

"He tried to force himself onto you?"

"Joey.." Rachel felt afraid, but couldn't articulate why. Joey pushed himself up from the chair, walking a few paces to the kitchen. She watched him; even from seeing the back of his head, she knew he was angry.

This was something else. How had Rachel left out the attempted rape, dropping it casually now like some minor detail? Had she blocked it out, or omitted it to spare him? Still, perhaps this would offer the segue Joey needed.

"Rachel, several people in my family have had this.. gift, or maybe curse, of being able to make someone pay for their wrongs. I think you have the same ability."

She sat up, getting a head-rush for her troubles. "Ability to do what?"

Joey imagined Ross trying to force Rachel, pawing at her, frightening her. The lights flickered overhead.

"Joey?"

He blocked her out, brightening the image in his mind, bringing it into sharper focus: the smell of alcohol, Ross' whining, the sensation of revulsion she must have felt -

The smell of burning bacon-fat began to fill the space, the burner's red glow reaching its peak.

"Joey, what's - I don't - "

He forced himself to clear his mind, to imagine Rachel safe, taking Emma from that hateful situation, making it to his apartment. He pictured her smiling, holding him close - 

The burner began to cool, the fat no longer hissing and popping in the pan. The lights returned to their steady glow.

Joey walked over to Rachel slowly, dropping down to a squat to be on her level as he took both of her hands in his own.

"I'm going to tell you some things which you may not like, and which you may not even believe. But I swear to you, on all that is holy, that I'm telling the truth."

She was shocked, and Joey knew he had to reach her before she went back into her shell. 

"How did you.. How did all that just happen?"

Without moving his eyes from hers, Joey began at the beginning, determined to get through it before he lost his nerve.

"In the beginning, there was nothing but water. No life inhabited the earth. Into that dark, wet void, came fire - fire from heaven."

Rachel's brows arched in surprise, but she pursed her lips, trying to listen without interrupting. He seemed so serious; Rachel hadn't seen him this serious since he'd told her he loved her.

"That fire had the power to create, but also to destroy. It could be doused, but, no matter what anyone did about it, it could never be fully destroyed. The fire always came back. It always has, and it always will."

She felt it then - the heat. His words were searing into her mind, and they would never leave, ever. His hands, always warm, were now almost uncomfortably hot.

"Over time, the fire took on a shape and a name. Every culture has a story about it, but in our part of the world, it became known as the phoenix."

Rachel flashed back to the X-Men comics Tag had loved, the Ancient Mythology course she'd signed up for for easy extra credit, and to that night when Ross had burned to nothing before her very eyes.

"My family has a long line of.. incidents, like the one you went through. When a phoenix is in danger, or when something terrible is about to happen to someone they love, they can summon the fire. Fire cleanses, Rachel. It gets rid of the bad, the danger, the pain."

His family? "So your sisters..?"

"No. In my generation, it's just me - so far. But the powers don't usually manifest until a life-changing event. It's different for every person."

She felt dizzy again, but pops of color teased in her peripheral vision, reminding her of what she'd lost. "What triggered it for you? When did you know?"

Joey glanced at Emma, playing in her pop-up crib. "When I admitted how I felt about you. That's when it started. You literally changed my life, Rachel, in more ways than you'll ever know."

"So you're telling me that.. what Ross did.. made me, like, snap? It made me a monster?"

"Not a monster, Rachel. Powerful. Almost invincible."

Joey stood up, raising himself to his full height. Rachel stood, too, not sure why she was doing it, not caring why anymore. She had the irresistible need to be close to him.

"Do you trust me?"

Such a simple question, and yet, so fraught with meaning. "Yeah, Joe."

"Then hold on to me, and whatever you do, don't let go."

"Why do I have to - "

She felt the burning, but it didn't hurt. Joey had his arms around her, and through the haze of the flames, Rachel could see Emma, still safe and within reach. At the same time, she felt as though they were flying. Colors beyond description flashed before her, blending into one another. Strange symbols, some comforting, some jarring, appeared across the invisible wall formed around them. The heat climbed and climbed, but Rachel held tight, unsure of what would happen if she loosened her grip. Joey seemed almost in ecstasy, and Rachel longed for that, to let go and feel what he was feeling - but she couldn't. The flames were just beneath the surface, but she couldn't call them forth.

After what could've been hours but was probably mere minutes, they 'landed.' Joey let go, and Rachel stared at him, dumbfounded.

"I don't understand any of this."

Joey was looking at her as though he could see something in her, something wondrous no one had ever thought to look for. "I know. It's a lot to take in. But did you feel it?"

"I felt like I was going to burn away to nothing."

The two friends sat down together, Joey still shaking from exertion, Rachel still shaking from nerves. "You will burn, Rachel. There are times when you won't be able to stop it. But you'll come back, again and again."

She swiped a hand over her face. "And Ross?"

Joey looked into a distant horizon Rachel couldn't see. "Not Ross."

With those two words, Joey had simultaneously condemned her and set her free.

"He's really.. I mean, he'll never.."

"I'm sorry. It wasn't your fault, Rachel; he pushed you to breaking point."

Rachel stared at her baby, the one she and Ross had made. "I can't do this on my own. I mean, I can't deal with this.. thing, and with Emma, and knowing her dad will never - "

"You're not a danger to her. You kept her safe. You kept YOURSELF safe. Do you see?"

Joey glanced at the clock, seeing that the casting call was in an hour, and knowing he wasn't going to be there for it. Rachel and Emma were more important to him. They always had been, and they always would be, no matter what.

"How many times, Joey? How many times have you.. burned?"

He tried to remember, though not very strenuously. "I'm not sure. The point is, I'm still here. I always come back, and so will you. Each time you come back, you leave a little bit of yourself behind; you just have to hope it's the bad parts."

He hadn't taken away all of her pain or guilt, but Joey could tell, as Rachel considered his words, that he had given her a spark of hope.

Joey wished he could restore her ability to see color, but that, he suspected, was going to require more than just talking.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pretend

The afternoon was subdued, the three of them relaxing in the apartment, pretending they never had to leave. Wishing for it to be so.

Joey let Rachel ask questions as they drifted to the surface of her mind, and he responded with honesty and gentle concern. He longed to hold her, to see if this bond they shared meant what he hoped it did, but it was too soon, her pain and fear still too raw.

Joey knew all too well the pain love could bring, and although she had never meant to hurt him, would probably never do so on purpose, Rachel possessed what no woman in his past possessed: the ability to truly burn him. 

Once a Phoenix chose a mate, that bond was unending. To live apart after making such a decision would only lead to danger, both for the exes and for anyone else they pursued. He had to be sure, and these things took time.

For now, just being near her, seeing her old self shine through at random moments in a smile or a head-tilt, in her laughter at his jokes or her joy in her child - it was more than Joey's heart had ever dreamed to ask.

Lunch was served there, where they sat, messes be damned. Emma had adjusted to the apartment she probably had no concrete memories of, had adapted to Joey's affection as though Ross had been a bad dream and nothing more.

The truth was, Joey had given Emma more fatherly care in the space of two days than Ross had given in her entire life.

Rachel did the mental math, keeping all these things in her heart. Joey cared for Emma like she was his own, and whatever happened, he would protect her.

As evening fell, Emma slipped away into sleep once more. Rachel knew that she would have to venture out, not only for more diapers, but to deal with the police regarding Ross.

Still. For a few hours more, they could imagine that this was the entire world, encapsulated within Joey's apartment. 

Joey felt the familiar drive rising in him as sunset gave way to night. Leaving this woman, even for sleep, was going to be more difficult than the night before, which had been harder than all the times prior to her return, but it would have to be done.

Once her child was unconscious, Rachel talked until she was worn out, talked like a woman condemned to die at dawn and desperate to make someone believe her, to understand her and remember her life.

Joey listened for hours, tuned in to her like no other. She spoke of her childhood, of strange feelings of being 'different', of unexplained phenomena she had chalked up to the weather or an over-active fantasy life. Joey made note of them, pondering their deeper implications.

As his friend began to doze, Joey covered her with the blanket once more. In sleep, she seemed so young, so vulnerable. All things considered, Rachel had taken her experiences and his explanations rather well, but she was probably still in shock. He recalled his own awakening, the denial, the dreamlike quality life had held in those first few days.. 

Glancing back once more before closing his bedroom door, Joey knew that the new day would bring harsh reality. He only hoped there would be some good in it, some progress, some healing.

The last thought in Joey's mind was Rachel's face, and then the dream-pyre pulled him in, bringing temporary oblivion.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The outside world intrudes...

Rachel knew she had to file a missing person's report. She also knew that, at times, law enforcement had more interest in finding the person who *fit* than the one who was truly at fault. Still, she owed it to - well, if not to Ross, then to Emma and to Ross' family. Besides, *not* filing would make her look, at worst, guilty of a crime, and at best, an awful person.

Not answering her phone - not even hearing it ring - had been a blessing, but Joey had gently insisted that she power it back on. As soon as she had done so, messages had come flooding in, jumbled voicemails from those unable to contact Ross. If that wasn't enough, the texts flew thick and fast, one alert after another, until it sounded almost like one long, continuous beep.

"I'll help you go through them on the way to the station," Joey promised. Would she be kept for questioning? What would happen to Emma?

"Joey.." Rachel took his hand in her own, and Joey felt it, the heat tripping up his arms and right into his heart like so many hot pokers. "Joe.. If they.. If something.. happens, will you take Emma?"

He knew that was her greatest fear. More than her own safety or freedom, Rachel worried for her baby. "Of course. I don't think it'll come to that, Rachel, but, yeah, I can watch her for you."

She shook her head, eyes stinging with pain. "No. I mean.. Not just today. If anything happens and I can't take care of her; if I go crazy, or if they hold me, or if someone comes after me.. I want you to raise her."

His eyes widened. "I thought you picked Chandler and Monica to raise her if something happened?" Joey hadn't meant to blurt it out; he kicked himself for not easing her fears or being calm. The things this woman did to him, the instinctive way he responded to her sometimes..

"That was Ross' choice, and I went along with it. But those two are so busy with the twins, and Phoebe has her baby, and I can't imagine anyone else - "

She was babbling, and she knew it, but she couldn't walk into that station and face whatever happened until she knew Emma would be safe and loved.

Joey squeezed her hand, and she felt heat flow into her. "I'll do whatever you want, Rachel. Whatever you need. Emma means the world to me."

Rachel knew it wasn't legally binding, but she also knew Joey would keep his word. He would move away if need be, someplace Emma wouldn't be found and handed over to Ross' family or the state. With that reassurance, the trio headed to the nearest precinct.

\----------------------------------------------------------------

Rachel filled out paperwork with the officer. He didn't seem overly concerned about Ross' disappearance, but Rachel was on high alert. Should she try to work up some tears, or was her beaten-down, exhausted demeanor proof enough of her loss? After going through the last moments she'd spent with Ross for the third time, Officer Non-Plussed wrapped things up. Rachel had mentioned a "verbal argument" occurring prior to Ross vanishing, but omitted the ways in which Ross had terrorized and assaulted her. What was the point of trying to get a dead man arrested? She didn't want the police looking for a suspect who was beyond earthly justice, wasting time that could be spent on helping the living. After promising to let the precinct know if she heard from Ross, Rachel Green was free to go. Still, she couldn't shake the feeling that the matter wasn't settled. 

In a daze, Rachel emerged from the tiny box-room into the waiting area, where Joey was letting Emma watch Bert and Ernie antics on his phone. Emma beamed at her mama, and Rachel could breathe again.

"Let's go," she said aloud, trying to sound sad, to hide her relief.

Joey opened the door for her, following behind with Emma.

The world seemed brighter, the grays appearing more silver now, but Rachel realized that, deep down, she had hoped this would be her Dorothy moment, that leaving the station would lead her into a world of color once more.

Joey sensed her disappointment. "You, uh, you wanna grab a coffee?"

She nodded. Coffee sounded great. 

Joey steered the trio towards the nearest coffee-house, and Rachel only looked over her shoulder twice on that short walk.

Joey knew Rachel was going to ask him some more probing questions later, once they were back at his place, away from eavesdroppers. He also knew that this little slice of normalcy, just the three of them hanging out in public, was the break Rachel needed. Maybe, just maybe, it would help him sift through the feelings he was wrestling with. 

Maybe it would even help Rachel to see just how good for her Joey Tribianni could be.


	11. Questions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back at the apartment

Joey realized, as another evening meal had passed and the three of them were settling in for the night, that he could happily spend the rest of his life in this pattern of domesticity. He had once dreamt of being a great actor, of traveling the world and working with some of the most successful and glamorous people in the business, but his little apartment was now threatening to burst with contentment.

He hoped, selfishly, that Rachel would feel the same way.

Before addressing anything of that nature, however, she had more questions about her 'abilities.'

"Joey, I know I'm not ready to hear more, but I doubt I'll *ever* be ready for it. I need you to tell me everything you know about.." 

"Being a phoenix?" 

She nodded, worrying her lip.

"Okay. What do you want to know first?" 

Rachel paced a little. "Why can't I see color anymore? I mean, when I was holding onto you, and you.. whammied me, I could. But here, I can't. It's all so dull and gray. Why?" 

Joey had been afraid Rachel would broach that so soon. "Rachel, you've lost the one you chose as a mate. Until you find a suitable replacement, life will seem gray." 

She stopped, pivoting on her heel to face him. "'Suitable' like how? Joey, after what I went through, I may never want to date again. My ups and downs with *him* lasted all through my twenties, and I'll never regret having Emma, but.." The very notion of going out and trying to meet someone new left her cold, and the knowledge that her vision would suffer until she did so simply added insult to injury. She sensed Joey had something to add, and she waited. Joey did not disappoint. 

"You should know that it can't be just anyone, Rachel. It has to be the right one." 

So not only did she have to find a mate, but it had to be the perfect one - otherwise color was gone forever? Yeesh. No pressure.. 

"I wish I could tell you differently, sweetie, but everything I've ever heard or read tells me that there isn't any other way." He paused. "It's still possible to live a pretty normal life without - " 

She couldn't stand it. "How can I teach Emma her colors? How will I be able to drive safely? I barely remember the trip here, Joey; what if I'd run a red light, or - ? I can't. I can't do this." 

Rachel sat down on the couch, defeated. At least she believed him, Joey thought, feeling helpless to reassure her. He sat beside her. 

"It gets easier, I promise. I'm not exactly a genius, and I function okay with it." 

She considered that for a moment. "Can you see color?" 

He had to concede that he could. "I haven't lost my mate, Rachel. I haven't had a worthy one to lose." 

The wheels inside of her mind were turning faster, but Rachel wasn't ready to deal with certain possibilities just yet. "Does the pain get easier, Joe? Will my guilt ever let up? Knowing what I did, or caused.." 

Now THAT he could help with. "In time, you'll forget. He will fade from most people's minds, including yours, almost as if he never existed. As for the guilt, you couldn't have stopped what happened. There is nothing known to humanity which can quench a phoenix' flames." 

"Is it wrong that I'm not sad? I mean, I should feel - " 

"Whatever you feel is normal. Each situation is different. You saved yourself, Rachel. You saved your baby. You took a bad situation, and you fixed it. He will never hurt anyone ever again. Do you see that? We all knew Ross would never truly let you go. This was the only way for you - both of you - to be free." 

The truth of Joey's words began to sink in. "What if it happens again? I mean, if someone makes me angry - Emma, or you, or some random person cutting me off in traffic.." 

Joey rubbed her back in small, soothing circles. "It's not like that. I promise. The fire only rises to take a life when it's justified. As for me, well, even if you DID burn me, Rachel, I'd come back. So try not to worry about it so much."

Rachel couldn't help herself. It was in her nature to worry, ever since she'd finally grown up and realized that the universe didn't revolve around her. Several minutes of silence passed, and Rachel fought the urge to ask to sleep in Joey's bed, just for the closeness. The burning sensation was becoming a constant low-level hum throughout her body, and being near Emma or Joe was the only thing she'd found could help her cope.

"It will all be alright." Joe's voice had taken on that deep, resonant quality again, reaching into Rachel's mind and easing away some of the tension. "It will, Rachel. All will be well."

She felt calmer, almost drugged. "Are you controlling my mind,?" she managed to ask.

It was tempting. Joey had never tried to manipulate the mind of another phoenix, and wasn't sure whether it would even work, but - "No. Not in the way that you mean. I can.. influence you a little, but not control. I care too much about you to ever try to control you."

She considered that. "You've been such an amazing friend, Joey. I'm sorry.." She paused. "I'm sorry I didn't try harder to be a good friend to you."

There was so much in that admission, and it hit Joey in the chest, hard. "The past is the past. It's a new day. Well, it will be in a few more hours, anyway. We should.. You should get some sleep."

Rachel nodded. Joey was going to his room, of course, and she should let him. Anything else would be cruel; Rachel had to be better, to put his needs into consideration..

"Joey?"

He stood, leaning over to kiss her on the forehead. "I'm right in there if you guys need me. G'night."

Rachel soon slid into the color/flying dreams again, only this time, she was searching - soaring through the skies trying to find something important. 

As morning woke her, she found she'd been crying.


	12. Starting Over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rachel realizes she's going to have to get a job after an extended hiatus and ease herself back into the world.

Rachel had a little money squirreled away, but it wasn't going to last forever. Joey had put his search for employment on pause for her, and the bills wouldn't wait. 

It was time.

After getting her mother to agree to take Emma for the day, Rachel set out to find a job - any job. It was like starting over; her resume had a big, ugly blank from her stint as a full-time SAHM, and the world of retail fashion had moved on in her absence. Still, this was a chance for her to draw on her inner strength, and to find a job where being color-blind wouldn't matter much.

Joey spent his first solo day attending open casting calls, though his mind frequently drifted back to Rachel and Emma. He had enough saved up to cover the bills for a month or two without her working, but Rachel needed this. Joey knew it was also a matter of self-respect and pride for Rachel, not just the money. 

By day's end, Rachel's wrist was cramping from filling out applications, and her feet were throbbing from pounding the pavement of the city she'd grown to love - but for the first time since "the incident," the woman felt a real sense of hope. Good changes were coming, of that she felt certain.

She arrived home shortly after Joey, with Emma not due back until later. That gave the two friends time to talk, which was both a blessing and a curse.

"Hey! How'd your day go?"

She smiled, though it was watery. "Pretty well, I think. And hey, if I get any of the food-service jobs I applied for, I can totally pay rent in leftovers," she joked.

"Rachel, try to give yourself a chance. You may have to work a crummy job at first, but you'll move up. It worked out last time, right?"

"Oh, I know, Joey. I'm not ungrateful; please- please don't think that. I'm willing to do whatever it takes to make it on my own."

He paused, reluctant to bring it up. "So, uh, have you thought about.. what you're going to do with the house?" Joey tried not to betray his happiness over the fact that Rachel seemed to have decided to stay at his place for the near future. The thought of spending time with her and Emma every day was like ten Christmases at once.

She paused. "Oh. I guess.. I mean, he always took care of that stuff. I, I don't even know how much we still owe on it, or.."

Joey knew that if Rachel could liquidate some assets, it would ease her mind from financial burdens, as well as helping her accept that Ross truly wasn't coming back.

Her temporary buoyancy was flagging, and Joey needed to boost her again. "Maybe we could stop by the house this weekend, you know, grab a few things, maybe shut off the utilities and stuff. I could help you find the paperwork and whatever else you need."

Why hadn't she thought of this stuff before? What if Ross had had life insurance, or savings, or a will? But then, there was no body; how would - ? She shook this away.

"You'd really go with me?"

Joey had never seen the house, other than a few glimpses on Rachel's incognito Facebook account, and he knew it would be a harrowing trip for both of them, but it had to be done sometime. "Sure. I figure it'll be tough, going back in there, so.. yeah."

"Joey, you really are the best, you know that?"

He let her snuggle her face into his chest, wary in case she heard or felt his heart racing, but unwilling to deny her contact. God, but this felt right, having her close..

The phone rang, and Rachel released him so he could answer it. "Joseph Tribbiani," he said into the receiver. Rachel watched his face, her fingers resting under her chin, prayer-handed, as he took the call.

"You're kidding? Wow. *pause* I mean, sure, I can be there first thing Monday morning.. Uh, a suit? Something like a professor would wear?" Joey looked to Rachel, panic in his eyes. She nodded, mouthing, "I got you."

Joey replied to the caller, "Sure, I've got something like that. No problem. *pause* No, thank YOU. Great. Okay. Bye."

"A job? You got a job??"

Joey had long since outgrown his fake-out routine, and besides, she'd overheard the positive tone of the call. "Yeah. They want me for a pilot for a children's TV show. I don't even *have* kids! How crazy is this?"

Now she was genuinely smiling. "You can borrow Emma any time, Joe. And besides, you still have this.. child-like quality, that good heart; you'll do fine. Better than fine."

Another hug, this one full-body. "I'll let you raid his closet, take all the dorky suits you want."

"You and Emma, you're my lucky stars, you know that?"

The hug went on longer than Joey had expected, and if he didn't end it soon, things were going to get awkward.

"You, uh, you hungry?"

"Sure. Let's make dinner before Emma gets back. Maybe a little wine?," Rachel added, hope in her voice.

"Only one glass. We have a road trip tomorrow, remember?"

Uncertainty flickered across her face, then subsided. "Right. But tonight, Joey, tonight is a celebration." Rachel fetched two empty glasses, choosing to ignore the slight streaks. Joey watched as she filled them with apple juice, handing one to him. 

"To starting over," she said, and Joey clinked glasses with her.

"Absolutely."


	13. Cleaning Out My Closet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rachel and Joey have to unpack the past in order to move forward

The drive was pleasant, and it would've been so easy for Rachel to slip into road hypnosis. She still couldn't see color, but sensed that the trees and flowers were lovely as ever.

Several times, Joey had wanted to give Rachel a reassuring touch, but the woman had been so focused on driving. To startle her or jar her from her train of thought could prove disastrous.

At last, Rachel turned off of the road and began the sloping ascent along what was her old drive. Joey could see the house in the distance, and although it was picturesque, it filled him with a sense of unease. That feeling intensified as the car slowed to a stop in front of the house.

So many irrelevant, Joey-ish comments threatened to tumble out, but he had to hold them in. "You, uh, you want me to carry Emma?"

"That would.. that would be helpful. Thanks, Joey."

Opening his door, Joey eased himself from the car, welcoming the chance to stress. Even Emma seemed to sense this.. thing, this darkness, despite the sunny day and rosy view. Joey unbuckled the infant from her car-seat, transferring her into the wearable carrier while Rachel worked up the nerve to leave the shelter of her car.

"I can do this. I can."

Joey stayed close at her heels, alert for any sign of trouble. The door opened on silent hinges, and Rachel seemed to be holding her breath. She had done a thorough job cleaning, for the kitchen showed no sign of lasting damage. If not for the oppressive atmosphere of the place, Joey could almost believe this to be a perfectly ordinary home. Rachel, Joey, and their kind, however, were anything but ordinary.

The kitchen drawers were crammed with warranty cards, instruction manuals and random junk, but nothing important. The living room and downstairs bathroom yielded no rewards, either. The same for the dining room and the garage. Rachel was flustered.

"I feel.. so lost. Gosh, there's so many rooms I never go into; I don't even - "

Joey took her hand away from her forehead, where it was threatening to remove a clump of her own hair. "Clear your mind for a minute. Where's the last place *he* would want or expect you to go poking around?"

Rachel frowned. "His study? All those dusty books full of big, boring words and no pictures?"

Joey's gut coiled. "Okay. So, maybe start in there. I've got Emma, and we'll be right here." He tried to exude calm, but Joey felt that the sooner they could get out of here, the better.

Rachel moved into the study, still within earshot. Joey heard her methodically pulling books from the shelves, flipping through pages, finding nothing. Eventually she shifted into high gear, wrenching them down and shaking them by their bindings in an effort to find something, anything useful. No longer stacking the tomes with care, Rachel left them in open heaps across the floor. Desk drawers were turned upside down, her fingers questing for hidden compartments within the frame. Growing desperate, she began to knock on the walls, listening for a hollow space, a hiding spot.. Nothing.

"Come on, gimme a break..", she muttered. The study proved fruitless, which meant she was going to have to venture upstairs to the bedroom. Joey met her on the landing.

"I'm right behind you."

Those words, in that tone, reached deep inside of her, and Rachel found her second wind. "Right. You're always there for me. I can do this." At any rate, she remembered, Joey would need to borrow some of Ross' clothes for his job offer. She had to go there.

Emma seemed to be looking intently at something Joey couldn't see, and that wasn't helping his nerves. Rachel felt along between the mattress and the box-spring, pulled out old suitcases and duffel bags from beneath the bed, checked in, under and behind the nightstand..

"Joey, this is.. We might as well just grab some clothes and get back to the city. I don't think I can.."

Joey was looking at her, and she felt something tickling at the edge of her subconscious. "No. I can't quit now. I have to get this done, so that I won't have to come back here."

Rachel moved to the closet, pausing before flinging open the double doors. Running her fingers over the items on the hangers, she had that zapping feeling again. There, at the back of the closet. That dry cleaning bag...

"He didn't. I mean, he wouldn't.. He DID!" 

It was her wedding dress, the one she'd been wearing the day she had jilted Barry and crashed into her new life at Central Perk. Ross had had it cleaned and.. well, preserved. "Like I'm some.. museum piece, or a.. what is it, a .. specimen. A butterfly pinned under glass."

She unzipped it slowly, and there, neatly pinned inside the garment bag in rows, were the documents she would need. "It's all here, Joe.. the mortgage papers, the car, the insurance policies.. My God."

Another look passed between them, and she scurried to the closet again, this time feeling along the top shelf. Rachel had to stretch on tip-toe, but she found something solid, scooting it forward until she could grip it with both hands.

It was a shoe box; she recognized the label of the bridal store from her would-be nuptials. "My shoes. What kind of a man would - "

And it was then, as she opened the lid of the box, that Rachel's mouth fell silent. For a moment, everything stopped.

"Rachel?"

There were too many emotions at once; she couldn't untangle them. "Photos.. of, I assume, one of his mistresses.." Thumbing through the pics, "Nope. Two of them.. and receipts from various dinner dates in the city.. and, oh, classy, classy motel in Jersey.."

"Here, maybe we should switch; you take Emma, and - "

"No, Joey. It's okay. Really. I need to do this. Just.. Wow. Life insurance policy on me for waaay more than his policy is worth.."

There was a strangled sort of gasp, and Joey moved to her side to see the cause.

Inside of a manila envelope at the bottom of the box, Rachel found stack after stack of crisp hundred dollar bills. Each stack was bundled together with a fresh rubber band, and she found that there were twenty stacks in total. 

"Joey, this is more money than I've ever seen in my life. Is this real? I mean, what was..?" And then, it hit her. "He was going to leave me. He was gonna leave me and Emma and take all this money and just.."

Joey watched her put everything back inside the shoe box. He watched her stand up, watched her walk back over to the closet to retrieve an armload of nerdy professor outfits. Without saying a word, Joey opened one of the empty suitcases, placing it on the bed. They packed in silence - more clothes, the albums of baby photos, anything Rachel might miss - loading the shoe box in last of all. Then Rachel zipped the case shut.

Still in silence, the two friends made their way to the landing. Rachel unceremoniously launched the suitcase down the stairs, where it landed with a satisfying thud. Like a body after a long tumble. Emma did not flinch, merely watched, inquisitive.

Joey followed with Emma, and the trio were soon back outside in the warm sunshine. Rachel locked the door, placing the key back into her pocket with care.

"Joey.. I'm still not sure if I'm crazy, or if we both are, or what's real here - but.."

He sensed where this was going. "Rachel, you have to know that there are consequences for using our.. abilities. As long as you're prepared to face those consequences, I'll stand by whatever decision you make."

She looked at him for a long moment. "You really mean that, don't you?"

This was hardly the time for Joey to profess his love; his friend was hurting, and the cause of that pain was a man, a man he had once deemed a friend. "I always have."

Rachel nodded, the muscles of her jaw setting the bone like newly forged steel. He had to follow up with something, say something..

"Okay?"

She nodded again. "Okay."

He opened the car door for her, then loaded Emma into her car seat. Rachel gripped the wheel, but her knuckles did not blanch; they turned pink, then red. She could not see either color, but she could feel them, could feel the heat coursing through her, just like that night - the night she had ended his life.

Rachel realized she hadn't ended anything at all. Ross had wanted to get away from her, from BOTH of them, and his wish had been granted. It had been a beginning.

She felt the need to commemorate this event in some small way, to make it seem real. Turning to the backseat, she smiled at Emma. "Say bye bye to the house, sweetie."

Emma made her attempt at a 'buh' sound, followed by a wave. Rachel turned to face forward again, letting that rage build, letting it boil and churn inside of her. Wisps of smoke curled upwards from the front steps, barely visible in the daylight. She waited, sitting with the car in idle until she was sure the flames were taking hold, waiting until the paint began to peel and one of the ground floor windows cracked before putting the vehicle in reverse and easing them back down the drive.

In the rear-view mirror, Rachel saw what Joey did not need to turn to see. The house was caving in on itself, engulfed in a swift and righteous inferno. Rachel could imagine the orange, the black cores of the flames, though it was all gray to her. The paperwork had shown that the home had been paid off six months ago, a minor detail Ross had never shared with his woman. She'd need a lawyer, a decent one, to help her figure out all the insurance paperwork, all the financials; luckily, New York City was full of those. She was going to set up a trust for Emma, and put another good chunk of change into high-interest savings. Some, she'd invest, and the rest - well, she was going to help people. Joey, for one. Sweet, lovable Joey, who was there for her, even now.

Even after she'd killed a man.

Even after she'd burned a house down.

The closest neighbors were far enough away that it was unlikely anyone would be hurt. The only real victims here were her wounded pride and the slutty interior decorator Ross had insisted on hiring when they'd moved in. All that work, destroyed. Ah well. The land would be richer for it in the long run, like after a forest fire. New life would take the place of the old in time. The pain and the ghosts of the past would be cleansed, and the beauty of the place would be free to return.

"Okay, Mama Bear. Tone it down a little; you don't want it to get out of control." Joey smiled. "But you did well. I'm impressed."

Rachel imagined the flames dying out as the house was reduced to ashes. A few miles down the road, a fleet of fire engines rushed past them in the opposite direction, and Rachel began to relax. 

"Thanks, Joey. I'm impressed with me, too."

When Joey looked at her like that, Rachel could almost accept the prospect of a life without color. The only faces which truly mattered to her now were right there with her in that car; for all she cared, the rest of the world could burn.


	14. Work

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joey heads to his screen test, with his personal cheerleaders Rachel and Emma in tow

Rachel spent Sunday evening fielding questions from the fire department and insurance adjustors. Joey was impressed with her performance, almost becoming convinced that Rachel had had nothing to do with the fire. Almost.

Monday morning, everything seemed hopeful and new, yet there were echoes of the past interwoven with the uncertainty of the future. Rachel helped Joey find a balance between nerdy professor and camera-ready mommy bait, hoping to help her friend secure the part and a decent stretch of good ratings. How many times had Rachel given fashion help to her friend? How would she feel about helping him dress for a date someday? Shaking away that last thought, she stood back, surveying her handiwork, a slight frown occupying her face.

"What? I got somethin' stuck in my teeth again?," Joey asked.

"No, Joey. It just.. It needs something..." Inspiration struck, and Rachel dashed away towards one of her suitcases. "Hang on."

Joey hung on, bemused.

Rachel returned with a pair of empty glasses frames. Peeling the diamante accents from the top corners, she positioned the eyewear into place on Joey's face. 

"You don't wear glasses, Rachel. Besides, these don't even have lenses."

She made a slight smile. "Yeah, I know. It's from an old.. dress-up thing. You know, the whole 'schoolgirl' thing, or sometimes the 'secretary..'"

Joey tried not to let his mind wander down that path. "Okay. Enough said," he teased.

Emma was already donning her cutest romper, and Rachel, feeling playful, had put on a slightly more adult version of Emma's outfit. It reminded Joey of her old denim overalls, not without a certain amount of wistfulness for those simpler times.

"Okay. I think you're ready, Joey."

"You sure you're up to coming with me?" He knew it was selfish, wanting her there so badly, but to deny it would've been a lie.

"Of course. I'm sooo excited for you! We both are. Right, Emma?"

"Oooey," she burbled, her best approximation of Joey's name.

"See? Alright, I'm going to get Emma's car seat and stroller ready, and then we're going to head downstairs and get a cab."

"We aren't taking the subway?"

Rachel smiled. "I thought you should arrive in a cab. More.. successful and professional, you know? Besides, the train, I mean, your suit might get wrinkled." She brushed at imaginary creases on his lapels as she said it, her hands betraying her inner drive to touch him and stay close. Joey felt flushed. 

"Oh. But, uh, a cab, across town, at this time of day - "

"Joey, I got this. Okay? Please, just let me do this for you. You've been so great with me, and with Emma, through everything, and I just.. Let me do this."

Ah. The money. Joey had pushed it from his mind, but that last day at the house now threatened to refresh itself at a bad time.

"Okay, Rachel. Cab it is. And, thank you."

"Sure thing."

It was an odd feeling for Joey, being able to sit beside a woman without having to constantly fill the silence. Rachel seemed as nervous as he was, and the only pleasantries exchanged on the way there were a few smiles. 

The studio lot was small but freshly redone, and Emma seemed to appreciate the kid-friendly décor. Bright colors and smiling cartoon characters covered the walls, and even the crew seemed in good spirits. Joey wondered aloud, jokingly, if they were still in New York City, and Rachel laughed in agreement, taking it as a good sign.

"This could be great for you, Joey. The people here seem so nice, and.. happy." Joey felt a jolt as Rachel's hand slid into his own for a moment, and he had to remind himself to breathe.

 

As they rounded a corner, Rachel gasped. "Wow. That must be the set. I.. wow."

 

Still seeing the world in shades of gray didn't detract from the awe factor for Rachel. The space was huge, yet still felt cozy. There was a living room area, a kitchen set-up, and an exterior designed to look like a kid-friendly garden. Joey could see the riot of hues, all somehow flowing into one another and making sense. Definitely good vibes here; a lot of loving effort had gone into this place, and that made it seem like maybe this was built to last.

 

An older man with a kind face approached the trio, introducing himself. "Tribbiani, I presume?"

 

"Yes. Hello. You must be Mr. - "

 

The man waved this away. "Just call me Mitch." Noticing Emma, Mitch went off-script. "And who's this little lady?"

 

Joey was relieved Mitch hadn't assumed Emma was his daughter, unsure as to how he would've fielded that one. "This is Emma, and, uh, Emma's mom, Rachel."

 

"Hi. Nice to meet you. Rachel Green." 

 

Mitch seemed taken with both of the beauties before him, but in a gentlemanly way. "Pleasure to meet you both. We're going to go ahead and get started in a few minutes, but friends and family are welcome to watch from the other side of the cameras. We also have a green room, if you'd prefer."

 

"Great! Thank you."

 

Rachel had released Joey's hand in order to shake hands with Mitch, so when she reached for Joey's once more in parting, it was jarring. "Good luck, Joey. You deserve this. We'll be waiting for you."

 

Joey took his position on the mark, and the camera was prepped, ready to go.

 

Now all he had to do was impress everyone in the room as much as he seemed to affect Rachel and Emma.


	15. Testing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joey's screen test

Rachel found that she and Emma were in good company, as several of the crew had babies close in age to her own daughter. The fact that children were allowed so close to set was a sign of a relaxed, family-friendly atmosphere. She really wanted Joey to get this job.

As Joey started his off-the-cuff portion of the screen test, one of the women struck up a conversation with Rachel. Emma seemed fascinated with Anna's son, Milo, and the two tots burbled contentedly at their mothers' feet while the women chatted. Rachel hoped her praise of Joey's skills and personality would hold some sway, but even if they didn't, it felt good to be able to talk to someone about how wonderful Joey was. Voicing his better traits aloud was creating a warm glow inside her, and Rachel decided to take it for what it was and enjoy it.

Anna received an urgent call to the backstage area, and Rachel found herself watching Emma and Milo, while trying to keep an eye on how Joey was doing. Joey was moving into the q and a portion of the test, and Rachel was trying to telepathically prompt him, half-wondering whether that was truly possible. So far, it seemed hit and miss, as though some of her thoughts were getting through. Joey was in the middle of a well-thought-out answer, when the lights went out with an eerie whir. Rachel tried to stay calm, picking Milo up and holding him to her chest - but when she reached for Emma, she felt empty space.

 

A man's voice repeatedly stated that the generators would kick in at any moment, urging everyone to stay put to avoid injury - but Rachel had to find Emma. Balancing Milo on one hip, she began to inch forward in the dark, going in a straight line, feeling the bare floor give way to one covered in thick wires and cables, and then the texture changed as her feet reached the edge of the set. 

"Rachel?" She heard Joey's voice, and she immediately felt reassured. 

"Joey, thank God. I'm watching someone else's baby, and Emma must've crawled away - "

Emma's coo rose above the chaos of barked orders and clumsy movements. "She's right here, Rachel. Emma came up to help me, so I just picked her up and kept talking."

Milo, elated to hear his friend again, began to make excited noises. The lights came back on, revealing the two friends holding babies in tableau. 

"Sorry about that, folks. Looks like we're back in business," Mitch said. "Oh, and look, we've got some co-stars here to help. I recognize Emma and Rachel, and, ah, yes, Milo. Why don't the four of you sit on the couch over there for the next part of the test? We're going to introduce some of the puppets."

Rachel, dazed, moved to the couch, sitting beside Joey. He continued to hold Emma, and Rachel clung to Milo, grateful that both children were safe. From the back of the couch, two fuzzy puppets appeared, eliciting a squeal of delight from Milo. Emma was initially more cautious, but was soon grinning at the intruders. Joey, still harboring fond memories of Sandy the manny and his puppets, felt at ease interacting with his non-human co-stars. By the end of the segment, even Rachel was amused by the absurdity of it all. The cameras stopped rolling at Mitch's command, and the crew, including the now-returned Anna, gave a round of light applause. 

An apologetic and grateful Anna came onstage to retrieve her son, just as Joey handed Emma back to her mother in order to go speak with Mitch. "He's such a little ham. Thanks for being so great with him. You know, we could use another pair of hands to help with the kids once the show starts taping."

Rachel blinked, confused. "I don't want to be a downer, but how are you so sure the show is going to be picked up?"

"We're contracted to do a series of DVDs whether we stay on-air or not, so the show is going to be taping at least twelve episodes. That was the urgent call; the distributor wanted to wrap up the finer points of the contract, and I'm one of their go-to people for that. Before getting into tv, I was a corporate attorney. Super boring, by the way."

"Wow. That's great. I mean, for you, and for the show, and.. your offer. But I don't have any qualifications in childcare."

Anna smiled. "We've got two full-time accredited staff, so I'm sure it'd be fine. I'll run it by my dad, if it makes you feel better."

"Your dad?"

Anna pointed at Mitch, who waved.

"That would be so great, Anna. Thank you." But what about Joey? If he didn't get the part, could Rachel really take this job? She knew Joey would tell her to take it regardless, but -

Anna leaned in. "Whatever you're thinking, stop thinking it. I recognize that handshake my dad's giving Joey, and he nailed the test. You, Emma and Joey could all be here, five days a week, playing and having fun, learning, making friends.."

So Emma could come to work with her every day? What job could be better?

Being so close to Joey held its own appeal, and not just because he understood her better than anyone else on earth could hope to understand her.

Living together and working together, all three of them? It sounded so right, and yet.. Rachel was afraid one false move could spoil everything forever.

\----------------------------------------------------

Morning had rushed into afternoon. Rachel had accompanied Anna on a tour of the studio, meeting some of her future charges along the way. Joey had spent that time going over contracts and making things official, and his friend was elated for him, but anxious to be near him again. It was all so overwhelming.

"I can't believe I got this job," he kept saying when at last they met up for lunch.

"You deserve it, Professor.. uh.. what's the character's name?"

Joey looked lost. "I forgot to ask. So, how was your day? You and Anna seemed to hit it off. Got any plans for a playdate?" The old Joey would've asked that question in a suggestive tone, accompanied by waggling eyebrows, but the new Joey..

"Uh, well, kind of. I, um, I got offered a job here, too, in the daycare."

"What?? That's great!" Joey seemed to forget his own good news for the moment.

"Yeah. Apparently, Anna thinks I'm great with kids, and they need more help here for all the crew babies. Anna even said something about possibly being a 'handler' for the kids who end up on the show. I mean, most of those kids will be older, but - Why are we talking about ME? This is YOUR thing!"

"Rachel, this means we'll both have an income, we'll both get to spend time doing what we love... You took time away from working to be a mom, and now you get to get paid for being a mom. What's not to get excited about??"

There was a glimpse of the old Joey. Each had his charms, and they were blending together nicely.

"So, that power out.. Was that planned?"

Just when Rachel thought she had him figured out, Joey would catch her offguard again. "What?"

"I mean, it seemed to help me get the part, but, a little warning would've been nice." Joey took a bite of his fry, checking it was cool enough before offering it to Emma. All Rachel could think was 'Huh?', alternating with 'Joey doesn't share food.'..

"Joey, you think I did that? Me? On purpose?"

He shrugged, like, 'No big deal.'

"Can we.. I mean, have you.. We can do that?"

"Well, once in a while. I didn't know if you caused a small fire somewhere to trip the breakers, or if it was just your nerves making stuff go haywire.."

Joey trailed off, looking at Emma strangely, making Rachel look, too.

"You don't seriously think that my baby is.. that she could.. No. Mm mm. No, I am drawing the line right here, right now. This life is already hard enough, and I.."

Joey squeezed her upper arm. "Relax. No harm done. If you say you didn't do it, then, I believe you. As for this little lady.. Well, we can't interrogate her until she's old enough to talk."

Rachel was glad their jobs didn't officially start until Tuesday morning; she sensed they were going to need some uninterrupted time to talk things over.

How could things take one step forwards, and two steps - well, not backwards, but sideways into the weird, wild unknown?


	16. Chapter 16

It had been an unbelievable day. Back at the apartment, Emma had settled down for a nap, leaving time for the two friends to talk.

 

"I'm so happy for you, Joey. I still can't believe you got the part! And I've got a job, a job where Emma can go with me every day.."

 

Joey handed Rachel a half-full glass of wine; it was still pretty early, after all, and he didn't want her getting too tipsy. "But?"

 

Her brow furrowed. "It's all so strange. How could things switch from going so horribly wrong, to going so incredibly right?"

 

"There's something else bothering you. What is it?"

 

"I still can't see color, Joey, and I miss it. Overall, I feel.. I feel things differently. There's a loneliness. I don't pine for him, but there's just something.."

 

Joey settled beside her on the couch. "It's still new. Your body has to adapt gradually. And you're never alone, Rachel. You've got Emma."

 

"And you. I've got you, Joey."

 

He felt the nerves rising in the pit of his stomach. "Yeah. You've got me."

 

She stayed silent for several moments. Joey broke the tension with a question, hoping it would prove to be a good segue. "Do you think it odd that Emma found me so easily in the dark?"

 

Rachel considered it. "Can't babies see in the dark?"

 

"Not pitch black, no. Not usually. But the lights went out, and Emma crawled right to me, over the wires and equipment, never hesitating. Don't you think that's..?" He hoped she would fill in the blank.

 

"I hadn't thought about what it meant; I was just so grateful that she was safe, and that Milo didn't wander off."

 

"You're going to have to learn about your abilities, Rachel, if for no other reason than the fact that Emma may need you to teach HER about them one day. You were looking for Emma in total darkness, and you found her."

Rachel realized something else, something Joey had either not yet voiced, or had simply overlooked. "I found my way to YOU, Joey. She was in your arms; I found you both."

The look on Joey's face told Rachel he hadn't looked at it from that angle. "Yeah. You did. You didn't overthink things; you went on autopilot. This goes deeper than maternal instinct."

"You think Emma found you, and that I found both of you, because we all share that.. link." It was not a question.

 

Rachel set down the glass on the table in front of them. She watched it shimmer, the glass vibrating with a slight hum which got louder the longer she stared at it. Joey placed a hand on hers, and Rachel blinked. "I don't want to be a monster. I don't want to just destroy things, burn things. Isn't there anything good about this, anything at all?"

The glass was hot, almost malleable as she touched it with one fingertip. So fragile, yet forged in heat. Like her. Like Emma. 

"Do it again, Joey."

He knew what Rachel meant without her having to articulate it. Standing in unison, they linked hands, rather than hugging as before; Rachel felt the need to test herself and find her limits. This time, she rose first, Joey barely having to prompt her. "Instincts," she thought his lips said, though perhaps it was only conveyed within his mind. Rachel was less afraid this time, having her previous flight and her recurring dreams to reassure her that she would (probably) return to her body in due time. There was something calling to her, and Rachel had to find it. Joey was in no rush, but Rachel felt impatience threatening to spark a blaze.

"You can control it. You MUST."

Rachel felt something building inside her, but it wasn't the flames this time. It reached deeper than that, like a cord pulled taut from the inside of her skull down to the soles of her feet. The rush of wind around her was real, though nothing in the apartment moved in its presence.

"Joey.."

"Instinct."

She pushed herself higher, imagining she could travel the world this way, see anything, spy on anyone.. Then higher still, until there was the bright light, like a thousand suns, beckoning to her. Her vocal cords shifted as she swallowed, and as her lips parted, Rachel let it out - a triumphant, piercing cry.

The cry of the Phoenix.

Joey began to echo that cry, and it was powerful and joyous, a language all their own which no mortal ear could ever understand. 

Lightning streaked the sky, thrilling her with its heat as they soared higher. She felt the beating of her wings, as sure as she could still feel the carpet beneath her feet.

"This is who I am," she marveled. "Little Rachel Green, flying alongside the lightning."

"This is who we are," Joey reminded her.

She knew there would come a time when the two of them would chase one another in this plane, or have races. She would learn to use this freedom, not as an escape from her difficult reality, but to enhance and empower her earthly life.

On earth, Rachel could barely stay in tune through a chorus of 'Happy Birthday,' but here, she could make this raw, otherworldly song.

As they landed, Joey had to steady her, her leg nearing toppling the glass. Rachel felt tingly and happy, easing back into reality more smoothly than the time before.

"Tired?"

Rachel nodded. She had not found whatever it was she longed to find, but seeing colors again, and stretching her wings - it had been enough for the moment. 

Joey helped her recline on the couch as Rachel felt her arms - or were they wings still? - grow heavy. The euphoria was like.. the afterglow of lovemaking. It hit home then, the fact that, while she had this ability within herself, it was better, SO much better, when Joey was there with her. 

"Just relax. I'll check on Emma. And when you wake up, celebratory take-out will be waiting for you."

Rachel, grateful, closed her eyes, fully intending to open them after just a moment. By the time she did so, the outside world had grown dark.


	17. Chapter 17

As Rachel stirred, Joey began to reheat the take-out without her having to ask. The aroma wafted over to her, and Rachel's stomach was gnawing on itself in anticipation. Apparently her little adventure had worked up quite an appetite, and Rachel found herself wondering if flying counted as cardio.

 

Joey brought their plates over to the couch, joining her and indulging in a second helping (it's Joey, after all). Her plate had a good balance of carbs, proteins and veggies, and Rachel was impressed. Noticing her surprise, he sheepishly admitted, "I may have actually read some of the articles in your ladies' fitness magazines. All that stuff about a balanced diet, it kinda started to make sense."

Joey was reading articles instead of just ogling the spandex-clad models in her mags? Joey was reading, period?

"I gotta feel the part, now that I'm on this kids' show. I gotta get smarter."

Suddenly Rachel felt protective of Joey in a way that was new to her, and yet seemed natural. "Joey, you are. You ARE smart. You just have a different way of.. of being smart, and some people don't understand it. But *I* do. I get you."

He seemed unconvinced, toying with his food, spearing a piece of chicken before popping it into his mouth.

"You know more than I do about this.. thing. And you have emotional intelligence; you anitcipate what other people need. That's something that can't be learned or taught. Anyone can read and take tests, but what you do is something different, something special."

Rachel found it was her turn to need a distraction, scooping up a mouthful of rice to keep her mouth busy. There was suddenly too much feeling in the room; best to switch to a more generic topic.

"Are you excited about work?"

He nodded, still chewing. Was he eating more slowly than he used to? Had he read about mindful eating in those magazines, too? He swallowed. "How about you? This is a big step for you, getting back out there.."

"It's going to be great, for me, and for Emma. I just wish I knew whether or not the show was going to get picked up. But, one thing at a time, right?"

"Right."

Rachel knew Joey would've fed and changed Emma, then put her to bed. He was so good with her, she trusted him implicitly. Rachel wondered if Emma sensed a bond between herself and Uncle Joey, if the same link which had caused her to find Joey in the dark was an ever-present thing for her child.

"Joey, what happens if Emma.. um.. if she does anything.. unusual at work? How do I explain it? I mean, should I ignore it?"

Joey considered her question. "Most of our kind don't show any noticeable powers until after something huge happens to bring them out. Emma's life is stable and loving; it would take something significant, some trauma or hardship, to really make her abilities manifest."

Rachel kept thinking of horror movies, of possessed children or supernatural half-breeds who could start fires using spontaneous combustion, or could levitate objects, or who would scare the shit out of people by blithely predicting future catastrophes. She shuddered.

"You'll be there with her. She'll be safe, and happy, and she'll make little baby friends. Plus, I can swing by on my breaks, say hi, maybe pitch in."

He was going to miss spending so much time with Emma, Rachel realized. Maybe he was going to miss spending time with her, too. Why did that matter?

"I may hold you to that. I'm going to need time to get an attorney, and time to open a new bank account.. I don't know that an hour lunch is going to be enough time to do even one of those things." The money stuffed in the shoebox was haunting her, and the sooner she found a safe, legal place to keep it, the better.

"Rachel, have you considered how it might look if you, a woman whose husband has been deemed 'missing,' suddenly deposits large amounts of cash into a bank? I mean, how are you going to explain where it came from? If you tell them it was in the house - "

"Then that puts me at the house before or during the fire." And Joey thought he was stupid? Yeesh, Rachel, you almost implicated yourself in arson and a possible murder! "So what do I do? I mean, if I get a lawyer, they can't turn in their own client, right?"

Joey set his plate down. This 'chew your food thoroughly' thing was really helping him eat less; he actually noticed when he got full. "Rachel, what if I put it into an account in Emma's name? You know, a trust fund from her loving uncle. I just got this tv show contract, so having an advance won't look so strange. I won't have my name on the account, so it can't be traced back to me, or more importantly, to you. Nobody will be able to touch that money but Emma, and only when she's old enough."

My God. The man was borderline genius right now. "And you'd do that? Joey.. I.." She turned the scenario around in her mind, looking for holes. It seemed watertight. "You keep cleaning up the messes I've made, or helping me avoid making a mess in the first place. I have to find some way to thank you."

He smiled. "Your presence is my present. I was never much help before, not in any serious way, but now I get to be there for you and for Emma. That's all that matters."

A braver woman would 'fess up, she told herself. A braver woman would lean in and give herself wholly to this man, not as a thank you, but because he was worthy, and because she loved him. A braver woman would take this chance, the chance to get everything she'd ever want or need in another person.

Rachel was not a brave woman in that moment.

She forced herself to clean her plate, her appetite suddenly gone. Well, not gone; maybe just diverted, into another appetite entirely. Joey would worry if she didn't eat, and she had been so hungry just a short while ago. "Thank you," she managed.

Each of them had wanted the other, but at the wrong time, or in the wrong circumstances, or there had been obstacles and unresolved business in the way. There had been a moment to try again, and she had let that moment pass. Now she had a night full of second-guessing ahead of her.

Joey cleared their plates, leaving them to soak in the sink. He made his excuses and said goodnight. Rachel turned on the tv for company, to try to drown out her racing thoughts with the inane chatter of some late-night host she'd never heard of.

She knew the dreams would come, in all their tantalizing promise, and she was correct. Soaring free, Rachel continued to search for something or someone to bring peace to her soul - and maybe to Joey's and Emma's as well.


	18. Chapter 18

Rachel found that she took to childcare like a duck to water, or like a phoenix to fire, or, you know, whatever. Potato potahto.

Milo was there, of course, and seemed happy to be with Emma again. The two babbled and burbled and toddled around together in their own clumsy way. Already in her mind, Rachel was imagining how many Milos would be in her daughter's life, how many smitten boys over the years. Would Emma ever find a partner as good as Joey?

For Joey, lunch was a welcome chance to breathe. His perfectionist side had demanded several retakes for the first episode, even when everyone else had been happy with his performance, and a little Emma time was just what Joey needed.

Joey hadn't been prepared to feel his heart go into overload as he rounded the corner and spotted Rachel over the baby gate.

She was wearing a baby. Not Emma; no, this little one was brand new, probably about six weeks old. The infant was cradled in an over-the-shoulder sling, dozing contentedly as Rachel tended to the older, more mobile youngsters. Joey appreciated Rachel in her new element, her lack of self-consciousness. She could be herself with the children, and the other women providing childcare were just as goofy and ga-ga as her. There was no need to try too hard to impress a baby, and for the first time since Rachel had arrived at his door, the woman seemed genuinely relaxed.

Despite her flakiness, Joey had always believed that Phoebe would be a loving mom. As for Monica, well, what she lacked in affection and spontaneity would be compensated for by her determination and her military-precision study and planning of how to parent. Truth be told, Joey had worried about Rachel, about how she'd adapt to putting another person's needs far above her own, but here she was, mothering a room full of children. The lucky tot had dark hair, almost as dark as Joey's own, and that image sent Joey's thoughts down a rabbit-hole before he could steady himself. 

Rachel was dressed down, wearing her least conspicuous designer duds, her hair swept back into a messy bun. Her black capris were covered in what Joey hoped was baby food; the alternatives were less appetizing. Her blouse was bunched and rumpled beaneath the tender parcel strapped to her torso, and whatever make-up Rachel had applied before work was in need of a re-touch. Even so, or perhaps because of it, she had never looked more beautiful.

Joey thought of his own childhood, of how wonderful (overall) it had been to grow up surrounded by a small army of sisters, watching them blossom into feisty, kick-ass women. He longed for Emma to experience the joy of being a sibling. Luckily, Rachel turned, noticing Joey standing there, cutting off his thought process.

The way she looked at him, surprise and delight in her eyes, made Joey weak. What had he done, in this life or any other, to merit such a greeting? The woman looked tired, but in the satisfying, job-well-done kind of way. Joey imagined he looked much the same.

"Ohhh, look, everybody! There's Joey!"

Joey couldn't imagine any of the other kids remembering him or caring about his arrival, though he did get a curious glance from a few of the kids. Emma ceased her work, the toil of banging a wooden block into its corresponding hole with a plastic hammer, and shot him a fleeting grin of acknowledgement. Unlike hers, Emma's mother's smile stayed.

"So, how's it going? I mean, is it great? Everything you'd hoped for?"

Joey had to admit that it was, though he suddenly felt uncomfortable talking about himself. "And look at you! Playin' mom to all these happy little angel-faces," he said, leaning in to peek at the sleeping passenger on the Rachel train.

"I know it's only my first day, and I don't want to jinx it, but I really think I might be able to do this, Joey. Emma's been so helpful and gentle with the other kids, and I just feel.."

He waited for her to finish, but she shrugged, elatedly lost for words. "You look amazing. I mean, so at home here, and so relaxed.. You're a natural."

Once upon a time, Rachel would've balked at the suggestion that she was a 'natural' at childcare. It had been such a shock, such a seismic shift in her worldview and lifestyle, but she knew she wouldn't change it now for anything. This job didn't have to be for forever; when Emma was older and in school, Rachel could shift back into fashion or any other realm she chose. For now, it was wonderful to have something so simple and rewarding to focus on.

"The other women have been so great, and I think that one over there.." Rachel trailed off, pointing discreetly at a leggy brunette on the opposite side of the room who was busy changing a diaper, "I think she's sweet on you. She asked me a ton of questions about you, and seemed pretty happy when I told her that you and I are just friends."

Joey said nothing, which he had learned from harsh experience was often the best thing to say. Rachel, taking advantage of the silence, continued.

"Her name is Nicole, and she's the sister of the lead cameraman. Oh, and Joey, she's got the sexiest French accent, almost too much for me, ha ha," Rachel went on, fanning herself with her hand.

Right on cue, Nicole began to soothe the fussy, just-changed baby by singing a lullaby, en Francais.

"You, uh, you want me to introduce you?"

Rachel expected an answer this time. Joey had to think fast. "Uh, well, y'know, first day and all.. I don't wanna get a bad rep. This IS a kid's show, after all."

Rachel hadn't thought of it that way. "Yeah. I guess you're right. Well, let me know if you change your mind, y'know, after you've settled in here and stuff."

Joey felt as if he'd been given a pop quiz and failed miserably. What was going on? The next-best thing to saying nothing was often to change the subject, which Joey did.

"I've got a few phone numbers of local attorneys who specialize in financial stuff. You, uh, you going on lunch soon?"

Rachel smiled her apology. "Not for another hour, when Anna gets back to take over for me. Besides, I don't think I wanna put this little princess down yet," she cooed at her bundle. "Don't tell Emma I said that," she quickly added.

"I can start making calls if you want, narrow down the list. And there's a great bank just a block from here, for that other thing."

Rachel's eyes dimmed slightly, remembering what had brought her to this new job and this new living arrangement and this new life. "Oh. Wow. Thank you. Yeah, we can.. um.."

Nicole was sending sly smiles Joey's way, unbeknownst to Rachel, whose back was to the other woman. Joey gave a polite nod of acknowledgement, but his face remained passive. He showed nothing, for that was what he felt towards the woman.

"I'll take care of it," Joey said softly, squeezing Rachel's arm as he did so, realizing too late how that gesture might be perceived as too intimate, too couple-y.

"You're the best, Joey. Talk when we get outta here?" Just like that, Rachel slid back into peppy, daycare-supermom mode.

"Of course. Bye, Emma. Bye.. everyone else."

Rachel wondered why she had tried to set Joey up with a woman, and why he had seemed so indifferent about it. Lunch seemed far away, and going-home time further still. Joey's acting had improved over the years, but despite his calm demeanor and genial smiles, Rachel had the sinking feeling that she had done something wrong.


	19. Chapter 19

Joey had only had time to grab a quick walking lunch and make an appointment for the next day to open an account. As for the attorney side, he'd narrowed down the possibilities to three firms, hoping Rachel would appreciate his decision-making, rather than resent it.

When Anna had returned and all but two stragglers had settled for a nap, Rachel had been relieved of her duties. She'd picked at her food, wondering why it didn't taste as good, then realized it was the first time in a long while she had eaten without Joey. That thought was alarming, though, somehow, not shocking.

Joey and Emma were the colors in her gray world, and Rachel feared she was beginning to need him too much. That was why she had tried to set him up with a date, to put some distance between the two of them - or, rather, distance between her best friend and what she was feeling for him.

The end of the day brought the ride home together, this time by subway, eschewing the expense of a taxi. Emma seemed to be telling Joey all about her day in her own toddler language, to which Joey made sure to respond at what he hoped were the appropriate moments. Rachel had relished not having to be attached to her phone, but she knew that when they reached the apartment, she would have to at least check her messages. Reality could not be kept at bay by a wall of adorable young charges.

Joey seemed to sense her thoughts, offering a subdued reassurance. "Whatever it is, it's gonna be okay."

"Mmm," she replied, trying to mean it. Wanting to mean it.

Upon noticing the state of her capris, Rachel felt only mild amusement. "Huh. Even when it's not Emma's mess, I don't seem to mind having my clothes ruined. I figured that quirk only applied to your own kids."

Dinner was quiet, Joey offering only the bare minimum of information about the bank. Rachel didn't need - or want - to know details, in case..

In case.

At 8 pm, after making triple-sure that Emma was asleep, Rachel allowed herself one glass of wine to steady her nerves.

"I'm not going to, you know, breathe fire or anything, am I? I mean, this stuff is super-flammable," she quipped.

"No, Rachel. You're not dragon-kin."

He had said it so seriously, Rachel had braced herself for a punch-line. When none was forthcoming, she drained the glass, fortifying herself for her next question.

"So, are there actually, uh..."

Joey nodded, and it was enough. She wasn't ready to open Pandora's box. "Oookay," she said, sounding chipper.

She sat beside Joey on the couch, powering on her phone. A voicemail from Phoebe, in which an increasingly-harried Phoebe tried to get her child to say the complex phrase of 'Hi, Rachel,' and in which both mother and child became increasingly screechy and unintelligible, made Rachel smile. There were a few blank messages, silences lasting anywhere from several seconds to three minutes, and those puzzled Rachel, but did not overly alarm her. Finally, there was a message from a Detective Shapiro, and Rachel's face went white.

The tone was neither urgent nor demanding, yet there was the sense that Rachel would face consequences if she did not return his call. Rachel played the message three times before managing to write down the call-back number and extension, her hand trembling as she did so.

The rambling message from Rachel's mother reminded her that she needed to check in at least once a week - hardly a daunting task. Maybe Joey had been right; maybe things would be - 

The final voicemail was more frightening that all the others combined, though Rachel couldn't fathom why that would be so.

"Yes, this message is for Ms. Rachel Green. This is Scott Denby from AllCover Insurance, regarding the total loss of your home. We haven't yet received your form I-632b, and there is a deadline on that paperwork.. Also, we've been unable to reach Mr. Goeller, so if you could give us a call back during our normal business hours. Hit star, pound, and my extension number, 226. Thank you."

Joey put his arm around his friend, pulling her close as she shut off her phone for the night.

"I'm right here. Whatever you need."

Whatever she needed? Rachel thought of Nicole, of her forced smiles at Rachel after Joey had rebuffed her flirtations. She thought of how it had felt to cradle a tiny baby again, to hold a precious new life in her arms. Rachel thought of how Emma would never truly know her father, and would never have a full-blooded sibling. She thought of how empty she felt, having lost color, having lost her home, her dreamed-of happy ending - 

"Joey.."

She looked so pale and drawn, Joey was on high alert. Would she vomit? Faint? What next?

He hadn't seen the kiss coming. Rachel's lips met his, and his mind went blank, white-hot and brilliantly bright. The wine mingled with the minty residue of her toothpaste, but beneath it all lay notes of honey and vanilla, Rachel's own taste, stronger now than it had ever been before.

Before. Before her Phoenix had begun to manifest.

Rachel found herself opening her eyes, shocked by her own boldness, but shocked even more by the taste of him. Joey was chocolate and cinnamon, spicy and sweet all in a moment, and she felt herself moaning into his mouth. They had eaten the same meal, skipping dessert; why was his mouth suddenly the most appetizing delicacy she'd ever tasted? Rachel felt drugged, heat pulsing languidly into her body from the point of contact, searing her inside. Her limbs were heavy, her head swimming. Was she dying? If so, she embraced it.

Joey pulled away, seemingly just as dazed as she. "Rachel.. You know I adore you, and I'd do anything for you.."

Oh, sh*t.

"I know you're really stressed out right now, and I'm here to support you, but I can't.. I can't take advantage of you. If we ever.. it can't be because of this. Do you understand?"

Her body shouted 'no.' NO, it did not understand; it had just discovered the best thing since Haagen Dazs, and Joey was cutting off her supply before she'd had a full helping. Somewhere within her mind, however, Rachel's better nature understood. 

"I.. You're right. I'm - "

He kissed her again, this time a light peck, no tongues, no flavors. "Don't apologize. Ever. It's a natural response to stress, Rachel."

Her heart deflated. He didn't think she wanted him, stressed or not? Hadn't Joey seen the way she lit up for him when he'd stopped by? Didn't he feel the emptiness inside her, the need for that human - or, almost-human, or superhuman - companionship?

"You're doing so great, taking huge steps towards getting a real life going for you and Emma."

Rachel bit her tongue, wanting to make him see that HE was the life she wanted - for herself; for Emma -

"And I know how lonely it is without a mate. I just.. I love you too much to let us make a mistake."

A mistake. Ouch. The way he said 'love,' like it was any other word. Double ouch.

"Besides," he added, turning slightly away from her - and, Gd, how that heightened her embarassment and shame - "if the police and the insurance company people questioned you about our 'relationship,' how would it look?"

Rachel took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. It would look like she'd made Ross disappear, maybe even killed him. It would look as if she'd been living it up with a new love, possibly before Ross' disappearance. It would look as though her new lover had deposited a ton of cash into a brand-new bank account, as payment, or as the spoils of crime -

"Joey.. Wow."

Joey was dying inside, dying to take Rachel into his arms and lead her to the bedroom, where he would do his best to kiss away the pain and the fear and the loneliness which he knew all too well.

"This way, there's nothing to tell if they ask. Right?"

Rachel knew she needed to answer. "Right." It came out hoarse, sounding far away.

"Now, come here, and let's snuggle for a little bit before bed. Before I go to bed," he amended.

Rachel knew what she needed. Her body hummed at every point of contact as Joey draped a blanket over the two of them and turned on some mindless drivel on the idiot box.

Still, she couldn't deny that what he'd said made sense. 

Since when had the Professor become so smart? Too smart for his own good.. and hers.


	20. Chapter 20

Work was slightly awkward, what with Anna picking up on the tension between Rachel and Nicole. In truth, Rachel was glad for the distraction, preferring *that* uncomfortable situation to the one she'd created the night before at Joey's.

By the end of the day, Joey would've set up a trust fund for Emma, depositing eighty-five percent of Rachel's cash. With the remaining fifteen percent, Rachel planned to look for a new place to live. That would take time, and she knew there were two other major hurdles facing her: speaking with the NYPD again, and dealing with insurance adjusters. 

When had life become so complicated?

What if the questions and forms tripped her up, landing Rachel in trouble? What would happen to her, and, more importantly, to Emma?

Joey's visit to the daycare area was short, but he'd felt it was important to show Rachel that he didn't judge her for her actions the night before. He wanted his friend to see that things were still okay between them. She seemed happy to be surrounded by kids, but the shine of the previous day was dulled. Nicole stayed within eavesdropping distance this time, which nettled him no end.

"I won't breach the perimeter today," Joey teased, gesturing towards the baby gate. "Just wanted to stop by and say hello to my two favorite girls."

Was he toying with her emotions, trying to irk Nicole, or just being real? "Your favorite girls are doing just fine, aren't we, Emma?"

Emma managed an "O-ey," then toddled off, probably in search of Milo, who had become her shadow.

"I had a productive lunch hour, so just try to put that out of your mind," Joey assured her.

"I wish there was another phrase to use, since I've worn out 'thank you,'" Rachel said, and meant it.

He reached over the gate, smoothing her hair into place behind her ear where it had come untucked from her updo. "It's my pleasure."

That slight touch, the barest whisper of his fingers against the shell of her ear, made Rachel shift the baby she was holding, almost jostling him awake. This one, Robert, didn't enjoy the carrier, prefering to be held in arms.

Needing to shift the mood, Joey threw out, almost as an aside, "Have you heard the rumors about a possible episode shooting overseas?"

Rachel perked up at that. "No, I haven't. Where overseas, Joey? Which sea?" She almost smiled at herself, feeling foolish.

"The last I heard, it was narrowed down to either France or Italy."

Rachel was stunned for a moment. "Maybe Anna knows more about it, since, you know.. her dad.."

Joey's eyes did that warm, melty-swirly thing that always caught Rachel off-guard. "If you ask, just.. try not to be like me."

She blinked. "Like you?"

"Y'know.. Obvious."

That time, she did smile. "I'll do my best."

Something inside of her uncoiled, like a breath she hadn't known she was holding. Joey wasn't upset with her, wasn't embarassed, was still helping her and Emma. Maybe things would be okay; a few more days, and the incident would be just a memory.

She and Emma would get their own place, putting physical distance between her and the man she was so drawn to, and their friendship would be intact.

Thoughts of a trip to Europe, as far-fetched as it seemed, got Rachel through the rest of the day. Emma's financial future was safe; Joey still loved them both; and she could face the questions. Just a few more miles down this hard road, and Ross would be a blip in the rearview mirror.

Anna had been coy, dancing around confirming the possible on-location shoot, but the crumbs she'd dropped had been enough for Rachel to be excited for Joey and the others. Pushing aside thoughts of the life she could've built for herself and Emma in Paris, Rachel resolved to be happy for Joey. He deserved so much more than he'd been given, and more than Rachel felt she could ever do for him. 

\-----------------------------------------

Joey knew something had to give. He wanted Rachel to make her own decisions, to choose what role, if any, he was to play in her and Emma's lives. He also knew what he wanted. 

Above all, Joey knew that Rachel had to resolve the issues hanging over her like ominous clouds. Her future was full of uncertainties, but the two looming largest were the legal issues surrounding the house-fire, and the mystery of Ross' disappearance.

Joey had always, *always* taken the moral high ground when it came to using his innate powers of persuasion, and, for all he knew, Rachel didn't even have that particular gift.. but the ability to sway others to her way of thinking would definitely come in handy for his friend when facing these problems.

It was time to push her a little, to probe the various facets of Rachel Green in search of something, anything, which could help clear her name and make the road ahead of her a bit smoother.

Safely ensconced in the apartment once more, Joey gladly received the news that Anna had not dismissed the rumors outright. That pleasant tidbit still digesting, Joey zeroed in on Rachel.

"What's the matter? I thought you'd be happy," Rachel posited, uncertainty etched upon her face.

"I am.. Listen, I know we've both been busy, what with new jobs and all, but, I also know that those phone calls aren't going to stop. The sooner we get through the paperwork and the questions, the better - for you and Emma, and, well for all of us, really."

Rachel nodded, though she felt weak, detached from her own body.

"I haven't pushed you on this stuff, because I know it's a lot to take in, but we really need to figure out what your gifts are. There may be something in you, something you aren't even aware of on a conscious level, which could help things work out in your favor."

When Rachel's silence began to unnerve him, Joey began to pace.

"I have this gift of being able to persuade others to my way of thinking. It's not foolproof, and I've never used it on you, or to get someone into bed - "

He *would* have to put those two examples next to one another, Rachel thought wryly -

" - but it's always there, just beneath the surface. Think of it as.." Joey struggled to find a way to break it down. "Remember how easy it is to convince Monica to order stuff from infomercials? She gets so sucked in by the slick pitch, and then she goes on and on about the product like some weird cult member. Those people who host those ads have the ability to persuade others that what they're saying is true. You see it with attorneys who win more than they lose, because they convince others that what they're saying is true, even if what they're saying is awful. Or think of politicians who get elected, especially if it's more than once. None of those people gets their way every time, but it evens the odds."

"And actors," Rachel said absently.

"Huh?"

"You said, infomercial people, lawyers, and politicians. You forgot actors. They convince people of things: impossible things, horrible things, funny things, sweet things.."

Joey conceded the point. "So, why don't we try some things out, see what you can do, and then you start making those phone calls."

He knew she didn't want to do it - any of it. He also knew that, just this once, if need be, he would attempt to persuade her with his gift.

"Will you try it on me, Joey? Will you show me what you do to convince someone of.. of.. whatever?"

In truth, Joey had only used it for experimental purposes in the past, just to see if it would work in various settings and on different people. Getting a table at a crowded restaurant had worked, as had settling a stupid argument with Chandler. It was always trivial stuff, never anything life-or-death like what Rachel was facing. This was new territory for both of them, and he was as nervous as she.

"Okay. Uh, what should I say? You want me to try to sell you something? Make unkeepable promises that a politician would make? What?"

Rachel tapped her finger against her lips, her brow crinkling in thought. "Make me believe that you are utterly, inescapably, head over heels in love with me."

Joey balked, his body flinching as though he'd taken a punch to the gut. "Rachel.."

"Okay, okay. Too emotional. Try... Try convincing me that 'Cujo' is based on a true story."

Joey thought back to how terrified Rachel had been of that movie, how she had climbed into his lap and buried her face in his neck to shield herself from the images on the screen. This was almost as risky as her first suggested topic, but Joey had committed, and he wasn't about to back down now.

"Alright. Cujo.. Cujo.. Okay. Ready?"

Rachel waited.

Joey described the events as though they'd happened to a good friend of his, adjusting his tone, pitch and inflection until he noticed Rachel leaning in closer and closer, rapt. As the story reached its climax, Rachel jumped up from her seat, unable to bear it anymore. Any memory of having watched the film had dissipated from her mind, and in its place were graphic mental images of a vicious, blood-thirsty canine on a rampage. Joey had to act fast.

"Rachel.."

He repeated her name in that tone until she stilled, stopping dead in her tracks.

"Rachel, the story I told you was just a story. There was no truth to it. Cujo is not real, never was."

The effect on her posture was immediate, her shoulders slumping down, released from the grip of fear. Her breathing evened out, and she sat down, relaxing more and more as Joey continued to speak soothingly to her.

"Do you remember, Rachel?"

She seemed to emerge from a fog, confusion marring her features as Rachel noticed she had switched seats. "Remember what? Listen, Joey, I'd love to believe that I could do some weird mind-control thing with my voice, but it's just - it's just so far-fetched. I mean, this is ME."

Joey could tell Rachel remembered nothing, at least not consciously. "Rachel, you got a man to leave his new bride for you. You convinced a customer from work to go out with you despite his messy ongoing divorce. You bluffed your way through a job interview when you were one of the least qualified applicants. You.. You're amazing. Even without being a Phoenix. Okay?"

She hesitated. "Alright. Now, let me.. let me try. You already had your turn, right?"

Joey smiled. "Yeah. I had my turn."

"Okay... Something to convince you.. Oh! I got it. You, uh, you, Joey.. You want me to have your baby."

His eyebrows arched in surprise, and Rachel fought the blush overtaking her cheeks. Fought and lost.

"Yeah. We talked about how great I am at working with kids, and we each got broody, so.." Rachel lowered her voice slightly, fine-tuning it. "So you and I talked it over, and we agreed that, if in one year you haven't met a great woman and settled down, you and I are going to try for a baby. Together."

Joey wasn't sure whether it was the power of persuasion, or simply the woman saying the words - but the idea seemed less and less ludicrous as the minutes passed. He asked questions, forcing Rachel to think on her feet, and she grew more confident with each answer. On cue, Emma woke up for one last feed, though she was starting to wean herself, and Joey listened as Rachel nursed her child, still walking and talking, still convincing him. Emma was a powerful prop in her speech. 

He knew they'd need to practice some questions of a more serious nature, things a detective might ask. The insurance adjuster was less of a threat, despite Rachel's beliefs to the contrary, and the law needed to be dealt with first. 

It was later than their usual bedtime before Joey was satisfied that Rachel was ready, gift or no gift. 

"Lunch-time tomorrow, Rachel, you're making that call. I'll find us somewhere private, and I'll be there with you, but you're really going to need to be persuasive." 

She knew he was right. As they prepared for bed, Rachel felt the strangest urge to ask Joey something. 

"Did you, or someone close to you, ever have a really mean dog?" 

Joey shook his head no, seemingly baffled by the random inquiry. "Nope. Why?" 

Rachel shrugged. "I dunno. It just.. I must be tired. G'night, Joey." 

He hoped she wouldn't have nightmares; if she tried to climb into bed with him for comfort, Joey wasn't sure he could stand it.


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Which obstacles are harder to overcome - external, or internal?

The next morning went smoothly. Rachel didn't have any dog-based nightmares, although Joey did remember snatches of a domestic-bliss dream about a pregnant Rachel. Then again, it wasn't as though Joey had never had similar dreams about his friend in the past..

Rachel was dreading the lunch-time phone call, but she knew the situation would only get worse the longer she put it off. Wondering if there were any good Phoenix attorneys in the seven boroughs, she loaded Emma into her stroller and headed out with Joey, her friend keeping pace with her despite her nerves propelling her forward at warp speed.

He led them to a mid-range hotel, its restaurant staff seeming all too grateful for the business; this place didn't seem as if it had ever experienced a lunch rush. Knowing Rachel was unlikely to eat much, but wanting her to try, Joey ordered a few items from the menu's lighter fare. As they waited for the food to arrive, Joey kept Emma entertained with whatever was at hand - salt shaker, plastic flower from the central vase, his keys - while Rachel held the phone tight to her face, make-up be damned.

"AllCover Insurance, this is Scott Denby," said the courteous voice in Rachel's ear.

"Oh, Scott, hello. Th- this is Rachel Green. I just got your voicemail this morning, not sure how I missed it." Rachel hoped she sounded apologetic and slightly harried, the way a woman ought to sound after her husband vanished and her house burned to the ground - not falling apart, but not fully holding it together, either. Did he even know about Ross yet? Of course he didn't..

The sound of a computer keyboard clicking was audbile to the entire table, meaning it was probably an older model, or simply worn from use. "Ms. Green, yes. That's understandable; I'm sure the loss of your home was quite a shock. I'm glad everyone's safe, that no one was home at the time."

"Yes, it's - yes. We were very lucky."

Rachel tried to say as little as possible for the first part of the call, stumbling as she gave a mailing address for Scott to send her the forms. She hated giving Joey's address as her own, especially to a man who could unravel the new life she was just beginning to build, but apparently the form wasn't something they could email to her; it had to be sent registered mail and signed for upon delivery, unless she wanted to make a trip to the office in New Jersey and fill it out in person (Gd forbid). Rachel made sure to emphasize that the address was temporary for her, and Scott paused, the tappity-tapping stopping as he considered her words.

Rachel held her breath, waiting for Scott to speak. Joey's free hand rested on hers, and she felt warmth, glowing and growing into a steady heat. The burn felt right, and she welcomed it. Rachel focused, and whatever misgivings Scott had been forming into a question or a comment seemed to dissipate like smoke. The typing resumed.

"Now, Ms. Green, form I-632b has two joint signature pages, followed by a separate page for the notary. I've checked with your bank; they offer account holders a notary service for a nominal fee. Once you've both signed the form, the two of you can stop by the bank to have it notarized, and then it's ready to go in the pre-paid return envelope."

And there it was: the wall Rachel had to scale. On the other side was freedom; she just had to find a way over, under or through form I-632b...

"Oh, Mr. Denby, I.. There's something you need to know. Mr. Goeller, that is, Ross, hasn't been seen or heard from since a few days before the fire. He's not answering his phone."

So far, Rachel hadn't had to tell a single lie. When Scott didn't respond swiftly enough, Rachel took advantage of his hesitation.

"I can give you the, uh, the case number for the missing person report, and the contact information for Detective Shapiro.. but I can't, uh.."

Joey gave a slight squeeze, and Rachel felt her energy shift. Scott, mustering some compassion yet having to tamp down his naturally suspicious nature, tried to emphasize that both parties' signatures were required in order to file the claim. Rachel felt calm, like she was standing in the eye of a storm, and she found her voice.

"Mr. Denby.. I've been through so much. My daughter has been through so much. I don't know where my child's father is; I've lost our home, and with it, so many memories, hopes and dreams, and possible clues as to Ross' whereabouts. There must be some other way to - "

Scott butted in, apologetically but brusquely; Rachel began again - 

"There must be some other way, Mr. Denby, some other form, some sort of statement from me, or from the police, or - "

Scott tried again, softer this time, but Rachel was undetered. "Mr. Denby, I know there's another way. I know there's some other form I can fill out, even if it takes longer, even if it adds steps to the process. There is a form for every situation; that's what insurance does - it covers every possible scenario."

Not THIS one, Joey thought to himself, but kept his mouth shut. Rachel seemed to know what he was thinking, stifling the urge to smile. Ridiculousness, she chided herself. Absurdity, finding mirth in such strange circumstances.

The waitress, only mildly interested in the goings-on of the customers, set down their plates with a whispered "There you go," before retreating to the service station.

"Mr. Denby.."

Rachel's voice had an edge of power to it which Joey hadn't heard before. The volume was subdued, but the energy of it was drawing him under its spell.

Scott's protestations faltered, failed, repeated, until it was as if the office was filling with Rachel's words, crowding out his ability to think. He knew he had something important he was supposed to convey, but he couldn't remember.. couldn't remember.. uhhhh...

"Please, Scott. Mr. Denby.. I've been through enough. Please, please, don't make this more difficult than it has to be. I know there's some other way.."

Rachel felt a surge of force go out from her, as though zapping into the phone. There was silence for a moment, and she wondered if she'd somehow disrupted the call, or done harm to a hapless insurance claim adjustor in New Jersey (Gd forbid). Finally, there was a coherent response, though it was like a different person had taken over the call.

"I'm sure there's another form for this, given the unusual circumstances; I'm just going to leave a message for my supervisor, Nina, to call you back - "

Another person involved? Rachel wasn't sure she could manipulate two at once, nor was she eager to try. "Mr. Denby, it's almost the end of my lunch hour; I have to get back to work, and Emma has to get back to daycare.."

His tone had improved, but the message was no more encouraging than before. Rachel had to do something, focusing harder, so hard that her head began to throb. All at once, the pressure released with a pop, and her mind was clear.

"Oh, here we are! Form I-749d, 'filing a loss claim in the absence of one property owner.'" Scott was visually scanning the instructions for the new form, and the sound of a printer whirring to life was music to the trio's ears. "Now, Ms. Green, this form has considerably more pages than I-632b, but it will allow you to get the ball rolling."

"Mr. Denby, you've been so helpful. I really appreciate your time, and how much you've simplified things for us."

Joey looked at Rachel, and she realized that he hadn't touched his food. His hand had never left hers, and his focus seemed equally divided between herself and her daughter. A tiny voice in the back of her mind made a wish that he would never, ever stop looking at the two of them that way.

"If you haven't received the paperwork within the next five business days, please give us a call back, " Scott said, wrapping things up and sounding downright chipper.

"I will, Mr. Denby. I promise." Was he still under the power of her suggestion? "You've been so wonderful, and I hope.."

She could sense him waiting on her to finish that sentence.

"I hope you sell a million-dollar policy this week. You're a gem."

Flustered, Mr. Denby extricated himself from the call. As Rachel hung up, Joey was grinning at her.

"So..?" Joey let go of her hand at last, snagging a few limp fries, passing one to Emma.

Rachel exhaled. "So, I hope this paperwork is the boring beginning to the end of the nightmare. I hope it gets processed or approved or whatevered without a second glance. I hope I don't ever have to manipulate a situation like that again.."

"And?"

"And... I think we've got about twenty minutes to shovel this into our Phoenix faces and get back to set," Rachel said, feeling better than she would've thought possible.


End file.
